y \AX^t<jr X^ U^yi^yvyx, j
UNIVERSITY
AT LOS ANGELES
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8 T 3 1 g
EDWARD EVERETT.
THE SIXTEEN
Perfective Laws of Art
Applied to Oratory.
BY
CHARLES WESLEY EMERSON,
FOUNDER EMERSON COLLEGE OF ORATORY, BOSTON.
m FOUR VOLUMES.
Vol. T.
4/> *•/ f" '-
PUBLISHED B\'
EMERSON PUBLISHING COMPANY
MiLLis, Mass.
1922
C0PYBIGHT\1822O
By CHARLES WESLEY EMERSON".
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INDEX.
chap. page.
Introduction 5
Key to Chapter First 9
I. The Study of Eloquence . . . Cicero . . .11
I. Honor to American Patriots . • Daniel Webster . 15
I. Charles Sumner Carl Schurz . . 18
I. Lucius Junius Brutus' Oration Over
THE Body of Lucrbtia . . John Howard Payne 21
I. Literary Attractions of the Bible Dr. Hamilton . . 24
I. Music in Nature Simeon Pease Cheney 27
Key to Chapter Second 33
II. The Cataract of Lodobb . . . Robert Southey . 37
II. The Death of Copernicus . . Edward Everett . 42
II. Exile of the Arcadians . . . H. W. Longfellow . 44
II. The Musicians 50
II. The Story of the Cable . . . James T. Field . . 52
II. The Petrified Fern .... Mary Lydia Bolles . 57
II. Value of the Union .... Daniel Webster . 58
Key to Chapter Third 61
III. Speech in Reply to Hayne . . Daniel Webster . 63
III. Absalom N. P. Willis . . 70
III. Zenobja's Ambition .... William Ware . . 74
III. Columbus First Discovers Land in
THE New World .... Washington Irving , Tl
III. Catiline and Aukklia . . . O. Croly . . .80
8
INDEX.
chap. paok.
Key to Chapter Fourth 83
IV. Toussaint's Last Strugqlks for
Hayti Wendell Phillips . 85
IV. Birds of Passage .... Mrs. Hemans . , 91
IV. Ecclksiastes XII Bible . . . .93
IV. The Two Hundredth Anniversary
OF the Landing of the Pilgrims Daniel Webster . . 94
IV. The Messiah . . , . Alexander Pope . 98
IV. Each Can Bear his Own - . . Joseph Addison . 102
INTRODUCTION.
THE SIXTEEN PERFECTIVE LAWS OF ART.
This work is arranged for the purpose of perfecting
in oratorical study those who have mastered, both
philosophically and practically, the Evolution of Ex-
pression, which is now before the public.
Like the Evolution of Expression this work is
divided into four volumes, and each volume into four
chapters. Each chapter illustrates a progressive step
in the evolution of the Perfective Laws, to which is
prefixed a key which explains the application of the
law to oratory, and the method of teaching it. As in
the previous work the study is taken up in the logical
OjldfiX jof mental evol ution in oratory.
The selections in these volumes have been chosen
Firsts FOR THEIR LITERARY MERIT.
Secondly, BECAUSE THEY ILLUSTRATE THE PER-
FECTIVEJ^ AWS OF ART APE LIEIL TO ORATORY._
Thirdly, BECAUSE THEY APPEAL DIRECTLY TO THE
ORATORICAL POWERS OP THE MIND.
6 THE SIXTEEN" PERFECTIVE LAWS OP ART. [Vol. I.
1st. No person can develop his oratorical powers \\j\
while using any bujb the noblest models of style. ^ It ^u^/
is a great mistake to practise on poor literature or /n^
upon ^defective lanofua,ffey Those who are studying
oratory or >expressivfi, reading cannot be too careiui
in this res peij^l'^'^nfer »^cultiy ated and classical habit
has been established, the student can accommodate his
talents to low comedy and selections containing amus-
ing di alect s without harm : but if he does this before
he IS thoroughly educated in oratory he will dwarf
his powers to the extent of unfitting himself to become
an orator or to give high dramatic expression.
The great comedians developed their powers for
expressing that form of literature which is designed
to entertain and amuse, by the severest study and
practice of classical styles.
2d. While all of the best forms of literature fulfil
the sixteen laws named in this work, each selection
emphasizes one law more than it does others. An
author in one part of his discourse is likely to em-
phasize one law most, and in some other part, another.
In such cases the discourse has been divided, and the
different parts put under the chapters which they
respectively illustrate.
3d. The oratorical element is very strong in all
these selections, so strong, indeed, that it arouses the
spirit of eloquence in the student as martial music
awakens the military spirit in the listener. Greats
orators inspire the latent oratorical forces in those who
DTTEODUCTIOK. I
listen to them, so that in a certain sense oratory may
be said to be contagious. The literary production that
sprang from the oratorical faculties of one will appeal
directly to the oratorical powers of others, just the
same as a good musical composition will quicken the
musical feeling in the musician.
The final perfecting of the orator and expressive
reciter or reader comes from moulding his powers in
accordance with these laws.
The work in Evolution of Expression would ulti-
mately develop all the powers required by these Six-
teen Perfective Laws; but experience has taught us
that after the student has worked with the laws of
evolution until he seems to be able to meet, to a reason-
able degree, their requirements, he will make more
■capid progress by working directly with the perfective
laws. Among other good results, they at once point
out to the student those laws of evolution in which he
is most deficient. This inspires him with a readiness
to work again upon those steps of evolution which he
would otherwise forever neglect.
He soon discovers for himself that it is impossible
to work successfully in the Perfective Laws until he
has reached certain criteria in the Evolution of Ex-
pression.
In these four volumes the sixteen perfective laws of
art are adapted to the study of oratory, but they are
equally applicable to all forms of art because they are
universal laws. These laws first of all define what
8 THE SIXTKBN PEEFECTIVE LAWS OP ART. [Tol.I.
_art is ; secondly, when used as criteria determine
the rank or value of each work of art; thirdly, they
furnish the ideal which the student of art should aim
to realize in his work.
It will be observed that in paragraphing the selec-
tions we have not always followed rhetorical usage.
This unusual division is for the purpose of greater
convenience in drill work.
The keys to the various chapters are not as elaborate
as they might be, because they are more valuable in
the suggestive than they would be in the didactic'
form.
KEY TO CHAPTER FIRST.
PURITY.
Every expression is required to be so clear and so
adequate to the thought that the audience shall think
^ along the line of the discourse, in advance of the
speaker's words.
■Purity} of expression frests] primaril_y upon ^Rgorof
tli u ugli ly A person may fully understand the author,
he 'ffiSy' experience the emotions that respond to the
thought, and still lack the mental vigor necessary to
purity of expression. The emotion may obscure the
puri,ty. This is a common 'fault. It is not because
tte person is possessed of too emotional a nature, nor
because the mind does not act quickly and comprehen-
sively. It is possible for the intellect to grasp the
thought readily and clearly, and the feelings to respond
properly, and yet the expression lack purity, because
the entire manifestation is devoted to expressing the
feeling caused by the thought. The consequence is
that while tlie audience recognize the feelings of the
speaker, they fail to perceive the thought that causes
the emotion, and therefore do not sympathize with
the speaker, and are burdened, if not disgusted by his
emotion.
10 THE SIXTEEN PERFECTIVE LAWS OF ART. [Vol. I.
There may be great promise in such a speaker, but
at present he possesses little power as an orator. The
emotion must seem to make the thought that caused
it stronger and more brilliant, or it is offensive. The
more emotion the better, provided it takes definite and
intelligible forms of expression ; otherwise the less the
better.
A person may think clearly the thought of the author^
and while speaking experience^ and that deeply too^ all
the emotions naturally attendant upon such thought^ and
yet not only fail of being a good speaker hut prove to he
a positively had one.
Still, on the other hand, what does not spontaneously
flow from the activities of intellect, feeling, and imagi-
nation of the speaker, while he is speaking, is not well
expressed.
No amount of preparation can be successfully sub-
stituted for present mental and emotional activity.
Previous preparation, if correct, produces greater
present activity.
All this activity, however, must take definite form
in the many uses of the voice, and in the gestures, so
that nothing meaningless or with incorrect meaning,
will appear in them. In a word, all psychological
movements must take definite and communicating
forms or the expression will prove ineffective. As
Demosthenes said, '* Oratory is action, action, action,"
but it is action in intelligible forms.
, 1" - r
l..r
CHAPTER
K
rURITY.
Blessed are the pure in heart: for they shall see God.— St. Matthett v.
THE STUDY OF ELOQUENCE.
1. One thing there will certainly be, which those
who speak well will exhibit as their own ; a graceful
and elegant style, distinguished by a peculiar artifice
and polish. But this kind of diction, if there be not
matter beneath it clear and intelligible to the speaker,
must either amount to nothing, or be received with
ridicule by all who hear it.
2. For Avhat savors so much of madness, as the
empty sound of words, even the choicest and most
elegant, when there is no sense or knowledge contained
in them ? Whatever be the subject of a speech, there-
fore, in whatever art or branch of science, the orator,
if he has made himself master of it, as of his client's
cause, will speak on it Tx;tter and more elegantly than
even the very originator and author of it can.
u
12 THE SIXTEEN PERFECTIVE LAWS OF ART. [Vol. L
3. If, indeed, any one shall say that there are certain
trains of thought and reasoning properly belonging to
orators, and a knowledge of certain things circum-
scribed within the limits of the forum, I will confess
that our common speech is employed about these
matters chiefly ; but yet there are many things, in
these very topics, which those masters of rhetoric, as
they are called, neither teach nor understand.
4. For who is ignorant that the highest power of an
orator consists in exciting the minds of men to anger,
or to hatred, or to grief, or in recalling them from
these more violent emotions to gentleness and com-
passion, which power will never be able to eifect its
object by eloquence, unless in him who has obtained
a thorough insight into the nature of mankind, and
all the passions of humanity, and those causes by
which our minds are either impelled or restramed.
5. But all these are thought to belong to the
philosophers, nor will the orator, at least with my
consent, ever deny that such is the case ; but when he
has conceded to them the knowledge of things, since
they are willing to exhaust their labors on that alone,
he will assume to himself the treatment of oratoiy,
which without that knowledge is nothing. For the
proper concern of an orator, as I have already often
said, is language of power and elegance accommodated
to the feelings and understandings of mankind.
6. Nor does anything seem to me more noble than
to be able to fix the attention of assemblies of men
Chap. 1.] THS STUDY OF ELOQUENCE. 13
by speaking, to fascinate their minds, to direct their
passions to whatever object the orator pleases, and to
dissuade them from whatever he desires. This partic-
ular art has constantly flourished above all others in
every free state, and especially in those which have
enjoyed peace and tranquillity, and has ever e'xercised
great power.
7. For what is so admirable as that, out of an in-
finite multitude of men, there should arise a single
individual who can alone, or with only a few others,
exert effectually that power which nature has granted
to all ? Or what is so pleasant to be heard and under-
stood as an oration adorned and polished with wise
thoughts and weighty expressions? ,
8. Or what is so striking, so astonishing, as that the >, -'
tumults of the people, the religious feelings of judges, '-.t^
the gravity of the senate, should be swayed by the ' ^
speech of one man ? Or what, moreover, is so kingly,
so liberal, so munificent, as to give assistance to the
suppliant, to raise the afflicted, to bestow security, to
deliver from danger, to maintain men in the rights of
citizenship ?
9. What, also, is so necessary as to keep arms
always ready, with which you may either be protected
yourself, or defy the malicious, or avenge yourself
when provoked? Or consider (that you may not
always contemplate the forum, the benches, the rostra,
:ind the senate) what can be more delightful in leisure,
)r more suited to social intercourse, than elegant con-
14 THE SIXTEEN PEKFECTIVE LAWS OF ART. [VoLL
versation, betraying no want of intelligence on any
subject ?
10. For it is by this one gift that we are most
distinguished from brute animals, that we converse
together, and can express our thoughts by speech.
Who, therefore, would not justly make this an object
of admiration, and think it worthy of his utmost exer-
tions, to surpass mankind themselves in that single
excellence by which they claim their superiority over
brutes ? But, that we may notice the most important
point of all, what other power could either have
assembled mankind, when dispersed, into one place,
or have brought them from wild and savage life to
the present humane and civilized state of society; or,
when cities were established, have described for them
laws, judicial institutions, and rights ?
11. And that I may not mention more examples,
which are almost without number, I will conclude the
subject in one short sentence ; for I consider, that by
the judgment and wisdom of the perfect orator, not
only his own honor, but that of many other individuals,
and the welfare of the whole state, are principally
upheld. Go on, therefore, as you are doing, young
men, and apply earnestly to the study in which you
are engaged, that you may be an honor to yourselves,
an advantage to your friends, and a benefit to the
Republic.
ClCBBO.
Ciiap. 1.] HONOB TO AMERICAN PATBIOTS. 15
HONOR TO AMERICAN PATRIOTS.
1. The eulogium pronounced on the character of
the State of South Carolina by the honorable gentle-
man, for her Revolutionary and other merits, meets my
hearty concurrence. I shall not acknowledge that the
honorable member goes before me in regard for what-
ever of distinguished talent or distinguished character
South Carolina has produced. // 1 claim part of the
honor, I partake in the pride of- her great nameo. I
claim them for countrj-men, one and aU ; the Laurenses,
the Rutledges, the Pinckneys, the Sumpters, the
Marions, Americans all, whose fame is no more to be
hemmed in by State lines, than their talents and
patriotism were capable of being circumscribed within
the same narrow Hmits. In their day and generation
they served and honored the country, and the whole
country; and their renown is of the treasures of the
whole country.
9^ Him whose honored name the gentleman himself
^ bears, — does he esteem me less capable of gratitude
for his patriotism, or sympathy for his sufferings, than
if his eyes had first opened upon the light of Massa-
chusetts, instead of South Carolina? vSir, does he
suppose it in his power to exhibit a Carolina name
80 bright as to produce envy in my bosom ? No, sir ;
increased gratification and deliglit, rather. I thank
God that, if 1 ura gifted with little of the spirit which
16 THK SIXTEEN PERFECTIVE LAWS OP ART. [Vol. L
is able to raise mortals to the skies, I have yet none,
as I trust, of that other spirit which would drag angels
down.
3. When I shall be found. Sir, in my place here in
the Senate, or elsewhere, to sneer at public merit be-
cause it happens to spring up beyond the little limits
of my own State or neighborhood; when I refuse,
for any such cause, or for any cause, the homage due
to American talent, to elevated patriotism, to sincere
devotion to liberty and the country; or, if I see an
uncommon endowment of Heaven, if I see extraordi-
nary capacity and virtue in any son of the South, and
if, moved by local prejudice or gangrened by State
jealousy, I get up here to abate the tithe of a hair from
his just character and just fame, may my tongue cleave
to the roof of my mouth !
4. Sir, let me recur to pleasing recollections ; let me
indulge in refreshing remembrance of the past ; let
me remind you that, in early times, no States cherished
greater harmony, both of principle and feeling, than
Massachusetts and South Carolina. Would to God
that harmony might again return ! Shoulder to
shoulder they went through the Revolution ; hand
in hand they stood round the administration of Wash-
ington, and felt his own great arm lean on them for
support. Unkind feeling, if it exists, alienation and
distrust, are the growth, unnatural to such soils, of
false principles since sown. They are weeds, the seeds
of which that same great arm never scattered.
Chap. 1.^ HONOR TO AMERICAX PATRIOTS. 17
5. iMr. President, I shall enter on no encomium
upon Massachusetts ; she needs none. There she is :
behold her, and judge for yourselves. There is her
history ; the world knows it by heart. The past, at
least, is secure. There is Boston, and Concord, and
Lexington, and Bunker Hill ; and there they will
remain forever. The bones of her sons, falling in the
great struggle for Independence, now lie mingled with
the soil of every State from New England to Georgia ;
and there they will lie forever. And, Sir, where
American Liberty raised its first voice, and where its
youth was. nurtured and sustained, there it still lives,
in the strength of its manhood and full of its original
spirit.
6. If discord and disunion shall wound it ; if party
strife and blind ambition shall hawk at and tear it:
if folly and madness, if uneasiness under salutary and
necessary restraint, shall succeed in separating it from
that Union by which alone its existence is made sure ;
it will stand, in the end, by the side of that cradle in
which its infancy was rocked ; it Avill stretch forth its
arm, with whatever of vigor it may still retain, over
the friends who gather round it; and it will fall at
last, if fall it must, amidst the proudest monuments
of its own glory, and on the very spot of its origin.
Daniel Webstek.
18 THE SIXTEEN PERFECTIVE LAWS OF ABT. (Vol. L
CHARLES SUMNER.
1. There was in Charles Sumner, as a public
man, a peculiar power of fascination. It acted much
through his eloquence, but not through his eloquence
alone. There was still another source from which that
fascination sprang. Behind all he said and did there
stood a grand manhood, which never failed to make
itself felt. What a figure he was, with his tall and
stalwart frame, his manly face, topped with his shaggy
locks, his noble bearing, the finest type of American
senatorship, the tallest oak of the forest !
2. And how small they appear by his side, the
common run of politicians, who spend their days with
the laying of pipe, and the setting up of pins, and the
pulling of wires ; who barter an office to secure this
vote, and procure a contract to get that; who stand
always with their ears to the wind to hear how the
Administration sneezes, and what their constituents
whisper, in mortal trepidation lest they fail in being
all things to everybody !
3. How he stood among them ! he whose very
presence made you forget the vulgarities of political
life, who dared to differ with any man ever so power-
ful, any multitude ever so numerous ; who regarded
party as nothing but a means for higher ends, and
for those ends defied its power ; to whom the arts of
demagogism were so contemptible that he would rather
Chap. l.J virV CHARLES SUMNER. 19
have sunk into obscurity and oblivion than descend to
them ; to whom the dignity of his office was so sacred
that he would not even ask for it for fear of darkening
its lustre !
4. Honor to the people of Massachusetts, who, for
twenty-three years, kept in the Senate, and would have
kept him there longer, had he lived, a man who never,
even to them, conceded a single iota of his convic-
tions in order to remain there.
5. And what a life was his ! a life so wholly devoted
to what was good and noble ! There he stood in the
midst of the grasping materialism of our times, around
him the eager chase for the almighty dollar, no thought
of opportunity ever entering the smallest corner of his
mind, and disturbing his high endeavors ; with a virtue
which the possession of power could not even tempt,
much less debauch ; from whose presence the very
thought of corruption instinctively shrank back; a
life so unspotted, an integrity so intact, a character
so high, that the most daring eagerness of calumny,
the most wanton audacity of insinuation, standing on
tip-toe, could not touch the soles of his shoes.
6. They say that he indulged in overweening self-
appreciation. Ay, he did have a magnificent pride, a
lofty self-esteem. Why should he not ? Let wretches
despise themselves, for they have good reason to do
so ; not he. But in his self-esteem there was nothing
small and mean ; no man lived to whose very nature
envy and petty jealousy were more foreign. His pride
20 THE SIXTEEN PERFECTIVE LAWS OF ART. [Vol.1.
of self was like his pride of country. He was the
proudest American ; he was the proudest New Eng-
lander; and yet he was the most cosmopolitan
American we have ever seen.
7. He is at rest now, the stalwart, brave old cham-
pion, whose face and bearing were so austere, and
whose heart was so full of tenderness ; who began his
career with a pathetic plea for universal peace and
charity, and whose whole life was an arduous, inces-
sant, never-resting struggle, which left him all covered
with scars. And we can do nothing for him but
remember his lofty ideals of liberty, and equality, and
justice, and reconciliation, and purity, and the earnest-
ness, and courage, and touching fidelity with which
he fought for them — so genuine in his sincerity, so
single-minded in his zeal, so heroic in his devotion.
8. People of Massachusetts I He was the son of
your soil, in which he now sleeps ; but he is not all
your own. He belongs to all of us in the North and
in the South. Over the grave of him whom so many
thought to be their enemy, and found to be their
friend, let the hands be clasped which so bitterly
warred against each other. Let the youth of America
be taught, by the story of his life, that not only
genius, power, and success, but more than these,
patriotic devotion and virtue, make the greatness of
the citizen.
9. If this lesson be understood, more than Charles
Sumner's living word could have done for the glory
Chap. 1.] LUCIUS JUNIUS BRUTUS' ORATION. 21
of America, will be done by the inspiration of his
great example. And it will truly be said, that al-
though his body lies mouldering in the earth, yet in the
assured rights of all, in the brotherhood of a reunited
people, and in a purified Republic, he still lives, and
will live forever.
Carl Schubz.
LUCIUS JUNIUS BRUTUS' ORATION OVER THE
BODY OF LUCRETIA.
I.
Would you know why I have summoned you together:
Ask ye what brings me here ? Behold this dagger,
Clotted with gore ! Behold that frozen corse !
See where the lost Lucretia sleeps in death !
She was the mark and model of the time,
The mould in which each female face was formed,
The very shi-ine and sacristy of virtue !
Fairer than-ever was a form created
By youthful fancy when the blood strays wild,
And never-resting thought is all on fire !
The worthiest of the worthy ! Not the nymph
Who met old Numa in his hallowed walks,
And whispered in his ear her strains divine,
Can I conceive beyond her; — the young choir
Of vestal virgins bent to her.
22 THE SIXTEEN PERFECTIVE LAWS OF ART. [Vol. L
II.
'Tis wonderful
Amid the darnel, hemlock and the base weeds,
Which now spring rife from the luxurious compost
Spread o'er the realm, how this sweet lily rose —
How from the shade of those ill-neighboring plants
Iler father sheltered her, that not a leaf
Was blighted, but, arrayed in purest grace,
She bloomed unsullied beauty.
in.
Such perfections
Might have called back the torpid breast of age
To long-forgotten rapture ; such a mind
Might have abashed the boldest libertine
And turned desire to reverential love
And holiest affection !
IV.
O my countrymen I
You all can witness when that she went forth
It was a holiday in Rome ; old age
Forgot its crutch, labor its task — all ran,
And mothers, turning to tlieir daughters, cried
" There, there 's Lucretia ! " Now look ye where she lies !
That beauteous flower, that innocent, sweet rose.
Torn up by ruthless violence — gone ! gone ! gone !
▼.
Say, would you seek instruction ! would ye ask
What ye should do ? Ask ye yon conscious walls
Chap. 1.] LUCIUS JUNIUS BRUTUS' ORATION. 23
Which saw his poisoned brother —
Ask yon deserted street, where Tullia drove
O'er her dead father's corse, 'twill cry, revenge!
Ask yonder senate-house, whose stones are purple
With human blood, and it will cry, revenge !
VI.
Go to the tomb where lies his murdered wife,
And the poor queen, who loved him as her son.
Their unappeased ghosts wall shriek, revenge !
The temples of the gods, the all-viewing heavens,
The gods themselves, shall justify the cry.
And swell the general sound, revenge I revenge !
VII.
And we will be revenged, my countrymen,
Brutus shall lead you on ; Brutus, a name
Which will, when you're revenged, be dearer to him
Than all the noblest titles earth can boast.
Brutus, your king I — No, fellow-citizens !
If mad ambition in this guilty frame
Had strung one kingly fibre, yea, but one —
By all the gods, this dagger which I hold
Should rip it out, though it entwined my heart.
VIII.
Now take the body up. Bear it before us
To Tarquin's palace ; there we'll light our torches,
And in the blazing conflagration rear
A pile, for these chaste relics, that shall send
Her soul amongst the stars. On I Brutus leads you !
John Howard Paynk.
24 THE SIXTEEN PERFECTIVE LAWS OF ART. [VoM.
LITERARY ATTRACTIONS OF THE BIBLE.
1. God made the present earth as the home of man ;
but had He meant it as a mere lodging, a world less
beautiful would have served the purpose. There was
no need for the carpet of verdure, or the ceiling of
blue ; no need for the mountains, and cataracts, and
forests; no need for the rainbow, no need for the
flowers. A big, round island, half of it arable, and
half of it pasture, with a clump of trees in one corner,
and a magazine of fuel in another, might have held
and fed ten millions of people ; and a hundred islands,
all made in the same pattern, big and round, might
have held and fed the population of the globe.
2. But man is something more than the animal which
wants lodging and food. He has a spiritual nature,
full of keen perceptions and deep sympathies. He
has an eye for the sublime and the beautiful, and his
kind Creator has provided man's abode with affluent
materials for the nobler tastes. He has built Mont
Blanc, and molten the lake in which its image sleeps.
He has intoned Niagara's thunder, and has breathed
the zephyr which sweeps its spray. He has shagged
the steep with its cedars, and besprent the meadow
with its king-cups and daisies. He has made it a
world of fragrance and music, — a world of brightness
and symmetry, — a world where the grand and the
Chap. 1.] LITERARY ATTRACTIONS OF THE BIBLE. 25
graceful, the awful and lovely, rejoice together. In
fashioning the Home of Man, the Creator had an
eye to something more than convenience, and built,
not a barrack, but a palace, — not a Union-work -house,
but an Alhambra ; something which should not only
be very comfortable, but very splendid and very fair ;
something which should inspire the soul of its in-
habitant, and even draw forth the " very good " of
complacent Deity.
3. God also made the Bible as the guide and oracle of
man ; but had He meant it as a mere lesson-book of
duty, a volume less various and less attractive would
have answered every end. But in giving that Bible,
its divine Author had regard to the mind of man.
He knew that man has more curiosity than piety, more
taste than sanctity ; and that more persons are anxious
to hear some new, or read some beauteous thing, than
to read or hear about God and the great salvation.
He knew that few would ever ask, What must I do to
be saved? till they came in contact with the Bible
itself ; and, therefore. He made the Bible not only
an instructive book, but an attractive one, — not only
true, but enticing. He fiUed it with marvellous inci-
dent and engaging history ; with sunny pictures from
Old-World scener}% and affecting anecdotes from the
patriarch times. He replenished it with stately argu-
ment and thrilling verse, and sprinkled it over with
sententious wisdom and proverbial pungency. He
made it a book of lofty thoughts and noble images, —
26 THE SIXTEEN PERFECTIVE LAWS OF ART. [VoL I.
a book of heavenly doctrine, but withal of earthly-
adaptation. In preparing a guide to immortality,
Infinite Wisdom gave, not a dictionary, nor a grammar,
but a Bible — a book which, in trying to reach the
heart of man, should captivate his taste ; and which,
in transforming his affections, should also expand^.,
his intellect. The pearl is of great price ; but even
the casket is of exquisite beauty. The sword is of
ethereal temper, and nothing cuts so keen as its double
edge ; but there are jewels on the hilt, an exquisite
inlaying on the scabbard. The shekels are of the
purest ore ; but even the scrip which contains them is
of a texture more curious than any which the artists
of earth can fashion. The apples are gold; but even
the basket is silver.
4. The Bible contains no ornamental passages,
nothing written for mere display ; its steadfast pur-
pose is, " Glory to God in the highest," and the truest
blessedness of man ; it abounds in passages of the
purest beauty and stateliest grandeur, all the grander
and all the more beautiful because they are casual and
unsought. The fire which flashes from the iron hoof
of the tartar steed as he scours the midnight path is
grander than the artificial fu-ework ; for it is the casual
effect of speed and power. The clang of ocean as he
booms his billows on the rock, dnd the echoing caves
give chorus, is more soul-filling and sublime than all
the music of the orchestra, for it is the music of that
main so mighty that there is a grandeur in all it does, —
Chap. 1.] MUSIC IN NATUKE. 27
in its sleep a melody, and in its march a stately psalm.
And in the bow which paints the melting cloud there
is a beauty which the stained glass or gorgeous drapery
emulates in vain ; for it is the glory which gilds benefi-
cence, the brightness which bespeaks a double boon,
the flush which cannot but come forth when both the
sun and shower are there. The style of Scripture has
all this glory. It has the gracefulness of a high
utility ; it has the majesty of intrinsic power ; it has
the charm of its own sanctity : it never labors, never
strives, but, instinct with great realities and bent on
blessed ends, it has all the translucent beauty and un-
studied power which you might expect from its lofty
object and all-wise Author.
De. Ha]viilton.
MUSIC IN NATURE.
1. A MODERN English writer says, " There is no
music in Nature, neither melody nor harmony." " No
music in Nature " ! The very mice sing ; the toads,
too ; and the frogs make " music on the waters." The
summer grass about our feet is alive with little
musicians. Even inanimate things have their music.
Listen to the water dropping from a faucet into a
bucket partially filled.
2. I have been delighted with the music of a door as
28 THE SIXTEEN PERFECTIVE LAWS OF ABT. [Vol. I.
it swung lazily on its hinges, giving out charming tones
resembling those of a bugle in the distance, forming
pleasing melodic strains, interwoven with graceful
slides and artistic touches worthy of study and imita-
tion. Awakened by the fierce wind of a winter night,
I have heard a common clothes-rack whirl out a wild
melody in the purest intervals.
. 3. " No music in Nature " ! Surely the elements
have never kept silence since this ball was set swing-
ing through infinite space in tune with the music of
the spheres. Their voices were ever sounding in com-
bative strains, through fire and flood, from the equator
to the poles, innumerable ages before the monsters of
the sea and earth added their bello wings to the chorus
of the universe.
4. From the hugest beast down to the smallest
insect, each creature with its own peculiar power of
sound, we come, in their proper place, upon the birds,
not in their present dress of dazzling beauty, and
singing their matchless songs, but with immense and
uncouth bodies perched on two long, striding legs,
with voices to match those of many waters and the
roar of the tempest.
5. We know that in those monstrous forms were
hidden the springs of sweet song and the germs of
beautiful plumage ; but who can form any idea of the
slow processes, — of the long, long periods of time that
Nature has taken in progressive work from the first
rude effort up to the present perfection? So far as
Chap. 1.] MUSIC IX NATURE. 29
the song is concerned, the hoarse thunderings of the
elements, the bellowings of the monsters of both land
and water, the voices of things animate and inanimate,
— all must be forced, age on age, through her grand
music crucible, and the precious essence given to the
birds.
6. Though the birds expressed themselves vocally
ages before there were human ears to hear them, it
is hardly to be supposed that their early singing bore
much resemblance to the bird music of to-day. It is
not at all likely that on some fine morning, too far
back for reckoning, the world was suddenly and for
the first time, flooded with innumerable bird songs,
and that ever since, bu-ds have sung as they then sang,
and as they sing now.
7. There were no reporters to tell us when the birds
began to sing, but the general history of human events
chronicles the interest with which birds and bird sing-
ing have been regarded by the nations of the past,
leaving us to infer that when men and birds became
acquainted, the birds were already singing.
8. It would seem, then, that our bird music is a
thing of growth, and of very slow growth. The tall
walkers and squawkers having gradually acquired the
material machinery for song, and the spirit of song
being pent up within them, they were ultimately
compelled to make music, to sing.
9. Dare we hazard a few ciude conjectures as to the
details of this growth ? After the " flight of ages,'
30 THE SIXTEEN PERFECTIVE LAWS OP ART. [Vol. I.
when the birds had emerged from the state of mons-
trosity, each raw singer having chanted continuously
his individual tonic, there came a time when they must
take a long step forward and enter the world of song.
In the vast multitude of feathered creatures there
must have been an endless variety of forms and sizes,
and a proportionate variety in the pitch and quality of
their voices.
10. Day to day, year to year, each bird had heard
his fellows squall, squawk, screech, or scream their
individual tones, till in due time he detected here and
there in the tremendous chorus certain tones that had
a special affinity for his own. This affinity, strength-
ened by endless repetitions, at last made an exchange
of tones natural and easy. This accomplished, the
bondage of monotony and chaos was broken forever,
and progress assured ; the first strain of the marvellous
harmony of the future was sounded, the song of the
birds was begun. One can almost hear those rude,
rising geniuses exercising their voices with increased
fervor, pushing on up the glad way of liberty and
melody.
11. To say that the music of the birds is similar in
structure to our own, is not to say that they use no
intervals less than our own. They do this, and I am
well aware that not all of their music can be written.
Many of their rhythmical and melodic performances
are difficult of comprehension, to say nothing of com-
Chap. 1.] MUSIC IN NATURE. 31
mitting them to paper. The song of the bobolink is
an instance in point.
12. Indeed, one cannot listen to any singing-bird
without hearing something inimitable and indescrib-
able. Who shall attempt a description of the tremolo
in the song of the meadow lark, the graceful shading
and sliding of the tones of the thrushes ? But these
ornaments, be they never so profuse, are not the sum
and substance of bird-songs ; and it is in the solid body
of the song that we find the relationship to our own
music.
13. The songs of many of the birds may be detected
as readily as the melodies of " Ortonville," and "• Rock
of Ages." In passing, one morning last summer, I heard
a chewink sing the first strain of the beautiful old con-
ference-meeting tune last named. Though I have
never heard any other chewink sing that strain, it was
a chewink that sang then, affording startling proof of
the variation in the singing of the same birds.
14. The chickadees sing a few long tones in the
most deliberate manner ; and nothing this side of
heaven is purer. I do not refer to their chick-a-dee-dee-
dee chat, though they sometimes connect that with
their singing. The chickadee and the wood-pewee
have the most devout of all the bird-songs I liave
heard.
15. Conjecture as we may concerning the growth
and development of birds and bird-songs, we know
that the birds now sing in a wonderful manner, using
32 THE SIXTEEN PERFECTIVE LAWS OF ART. [Vol. 1
all the intervals of the major and minor scales in
perfection of intonation, with a purity of voice and
finish of execuiion, with an exquisiteness of melody,
a magnetic and spiritual charm appurtenant to no
other music on earth.
16. The horse neighs, the lion roars, the tiger
growls, — the world is full of vocal sounds ; only the
birds sing. They are Nature's finest artists, whose
lives and works are above the earth. They have not
learned of us ; it is our delight to learn of them. To
no other living things are man's mind and heart so
greatly indebted.
17. Myriads of these beautiful creatures, journeying
thousands of miles over oceans and continents, much
of the way by night — to avoid murderers ! — return,
unfailing as the spring, prompt even to the day and
hour, to build their cunning nests and rear their young
in our orchards and dooryards, to delight us with their
beauty and grace of movement, and above, far above
all, to pour over the world the glory of their song.
He that hath ears to hear, let him hear.
Simeon Pease Cheney.
KEY TO CHAPTER SECOND.
PROGRESSIVENESS.
Every good piece of literary composition is like a
river in its flow. The stream deepens as it moves
onward, and it deepens in just the ratio of the number
and size of its tributaries. So is it with good litera-
ture ; as the theme continues, it is enriched by new
and added thoughts. As the speaker proceeds, and
new thoughts and illustrations enter the mind, the
e xpression d eepens.
All progress is inward. Progress in speaking. is_ Jiot
always shown by increa sed emphasis or a loud er voice ;
nor by higher pitch, or more rapid utterance ; nor by
lower pitch and graver tones. These and other forms
of speech will appear, as the thought varies in its
onward course ; but all the forms of expression that
appear to the senses in true progressiveness, arise from
the fact that each added thought is contemplated,
either consciously or unconsciously, on the part of the
speaker, in the light ol all the thoughts that Jiaye
preceded it.
34 THE SIXTEEN PERFECTIVE LAWS OF ABT. [Vol. I.
A brief illustration may be taken from the Old
Clock, by Longfellow.
Without progressiveness each line will be but a
repetition, in manner of expression, of all the other
lines. I will mark a stanza for inflection of voice,
and thereby show how change of pitch alone may
manifest progressiveness. Then take into considera-
tion that a great number of changes of voice can take
place by which to express progressiveness, such as
volume, force, quality and form, with their numberless
combinations, and it will be seen that the resources of
a trained voice and mind for manifesting progressive-
ness of thought are measureless.
Somewhat back from the village street
Stands the old-fashioned cotintry seat.
Across its antique portico
Tall poplar trees their shadows throw,
And from its station in the hall
An ancient time-piece says to all :
" Forever — never !
Never — forever ! "
One may easily get at my meaning if he will simply,
after each successive falling inflection which I have
marked, allow the voice to continue on a somewhat
lower pitch, and notice the effect. He will perceive
an inc rease of impressiveness. Then contrast it with
bringing the voice back to the same pitch after each
inflection. By the latter practice he will discover a
KEY TO CHAPTER II. 35
slight " sing-song " or chanting effect in the voice. In
this manner each statement is given just like the pre-
vious one, and consequently no progress is made.
I would not guide expression by inflections, for
that would make a very mechanical speaker. Thought
s hould guide inflec tion, but inflection should not over-
rule thought. Nevertheless, even by mechanics one
is enabled to perceive an illustration of the principle
of progressiveness.
The thought of the " country seat " is contained in
the first statement, then the poplar-tree casting its
shadow on the portico is viewed in the light of the
country seat, from which it derives character and con-
sequently added color of expression. The clock in the
hall conveys an idea in itself, but this idea is enriched
by all that has been said before ; hence, " ancient time-
piece " is the most impressive of all the expressions
thus far. There would be some value in the thought
of an ancient time-piece when taken by itself alone, but
it would be little if it were not associated in the mind
with the country seat and its belongings, from which
it derives its great importance. The thought in the
expression " ancient time-piece " is deeper than it is
in the previous statements because it contains what
has been expressed in them in addition to its own in-
trinsic /alue.
f i 'juy-^l-^'
— I i ]AM^
>K^
"l^
CHAPTER IX.
PROGRESSIVENESS.
They shall mount up loith wings as eagles ; they shall runt o,nd not 66
toeary ; they shall walk, and not faint. — Isaiah.
THE CATARACT OF LODORE.
1.
" How does the water ^
Come down at Lodore ? "
Mv little boy asked me
Thus, once on a time ;
And, moreover, he tasked me
To tell him in rhyme.
ir.
Anon at the word, y
There first came one daughter,
And then came another,
To second and third
The request of their brother,
And to hear how the water
Comes down at Lodore,
With its rush and its roar,
As many a time
They had seen it before.
" 4 C) 7 f) r.
8S THE SIXTEEN PERFECTIVE LAWS OP ART. IVoL L
III.
3o I told them in rhyme — • -a^.
For of rhymes I had store ;
And 'twas my vocation
For their recreation
That so I should sing ;
Because I was Laureate
To them and the king.
IV.
From its sources, which well
In the tarn on the fell ;
From its fountains
In the mountains,
Its rills and its gills ;
Through moss and through brake,
It runs and it creeps
For a while, till it sleeps
In its own little lake.
V.
And thence, at departing,
Awakening and starting,
It runs through the reeds,
And away it proceeds,
Through meadow and glade,
In sun and in shade,
And through the wood-shelter-
Among crags in its flurry,
Helter-skelter,
Hurry-skurrv.
Chap. 2.J THE CATARACT OF LODOBK. 39
VI.
Here it comes sparkling, /
And there it lies darkling ju^
Now smoking and frothiugO
In tumult and wrath in, U
Till, in this rapid race 1 '
On which it is bent.
It reaches the place CL
Of its steep descent. iJ
VII.
■^^ The cataract strong ^
S Then plunges along,
*/ Striking and raging,
y^ As if a war waging
l-Jts caverns and rocks among;
/ Rising and leaping,
^ Sinking and creeping,
^ Swelling and sweeping,
JJ Showering and springing,
i Flying and flinging,
O Writhing and ringing,
VIII.
^ Eddying and whisking,
^ Spouting and frisking,
.^ Turning and twisting,
5- Around and around
■^ With endless rel)oun<l ;
o
49 THE SIXTEEN PERFECTIVE LAWS OF AET. £VoL L
yr Smiting and fighting,
^ A sight to delight in ;
x^ Confounding, astounding,
O Dizzying, and deafening the ear with its sound.
IX.
Collecting, projecting,
Receding and speeding.
And shocking and rocking,
And darting and parting,
And threading and spreading,
And whizzing and hissing.
And dripping and skipping.
And hitting and splitting,
X.
O
^i
( And shining and twining,
1^ And rattling and battling,
% And shaking and quaking,
t<^ And pouring and roaring,
^, And waving and raving,
^.And tossing and crossing,
7 And flowing and going,
XI.
JL '! And running and stunning,
'^ And foaming and roaming,
Ai.J dinning and spinning.
And dropping and hopping,
Chap. 2.] THE CATARACT OF LODORE. 41
CyfAnd working and jerking,
1 _And guggling and struggling,
V And heaving and cleaving,
^ And moaning and groaning,
XII.
O And glittering and frittering,
V And gathering and feathering,
ex And whitening and brightening,
. ^ And quivering and shivering,
^ And hurrying and skurrying,
-^ And thundering and floundering ;
XIII.
Dividing and gliding and sliding.
And falling and brawling and sprawling,
And driving and riving and striving,
And sprinkling and twinkling and wrinkling,
And sounding and bounding and rounding,
And bubbling and troubling and doubling.
And grumbling and rumbling and tumbling,
And chattering and battering and shattering ;
XIV.
Retreating and beating and meeting and sheeting, /
Delaying and straying and playing and spraying, r
Advancing and prancing and glancing and dancing,
Recoiling, tnnnoiling, and toiling and boiling,
And gleaming and streaming and steaming and beaming.
And rushing and flushing and brushing and gushing.
42 THE SIXTEEN PEBFECTIVE LAWS OF ART. [VoL I.
And flapping and rapping and clapping and slapping,
And curling and whirling and purling and twirling,
And thumping and plumping and bumping and jumping,
And dashing and flashing and splashing and clashing ;
And so never ending, but always descending,
Sounds and motions forever and ever are blending,
All at once, and all o'er, with a mighty uproar :
And this way the water comes down at Lodore.
ROBEBT SOUTHEY.
THE DEATH OF COPERNICUS.
1. At length he draws near his end. He is seventy-
three years of age, and he yields his work on "The
Revolutions of the Heavenly Orbs" to his friends for
publication. The day at last has come on which it is
to be ushered into the world. It is the 24th of May,
1543.
2. On that day — the effect, no doubt, of the intense
excitement of his mind, operating upon an exhausted
frame — an effusion of blood brings him to the gates of
the grave. His last hour has come ; he lies stretched
upon the couch from which he will never rise.
3. The beams of the setting sun glance through the
Gothic windows of his chamber ; near his bedside is the
Chap. 3.] THE DEATH OF COPERNICUS. 43
armillary sphere which he has contrived to represent
his theory of the heavens ; his picture painted by him-
self, the amusement of his earlier years, hangs before
him ; beneath it are his astrolabe and other imperfect
astronomical instruments ; and around him are gathered
his sorrowing disciples.
4. The door of the apartment opens ; the eye of the
departing sage is turned to see who enters : it is a friend
who brings him the first printed copy of his immortal
treatise. He knows that in that book he contradicts
all that has ever been distinctly taught by former
philosophers ; he knows that he has rebelled against
the sway of Ptolemy, which the scientific world has
acknowledged for a thousand years ; he knows that
the popular mind will be shocked by his innovations ;
he knows that the attempt will be made to press even
religion in to the service against him ; but he knows
that his book is true.
5. He is dying, but he leaves a glorious truth as his
dying bequest to the world. He bids the friend who has
brought it place himself between the window and his
bedside, that the sun's rays may fall upon the precious
volume, and he may behold it once more before his eye
grows dim. lie looks upon it, takes it in his hands,
presses it to his breast, and expires.
6. But no, he is not wholly gone. A smile lights up
his dying countenance ; a beam of returning intelligence
kindles in his eye ; his lips move ; and the friend who
leans over him, can hear him faintly murmur the
44 THE SIXTEEN PERFECTIVE LAWS OF ART. [Vol.1.
beautiful sentiments which the Christian lyrist of a
later age has so finely expressed in verse :
" Ye golden lamps of heaven, farewell, with all your feeble
light ;
Farewell, thou ever-changing moon, pale empress of the
night ;
And thou, effulgent orb of day, in brighter flames arrayed.
My soul, which springs beyond thy sphere, no more
demands thy aid.
Ye stars are but the shining dust of my divine abode,
The pavement of those heavenly courts where I shall reign
with God."
So died the great Columbus of the heavens.
Edward Everett.
EXILE OF THE ACADIANS.
I.
Pleasantly rose one morn the sun on the village of Grand-
Pre.
Pleasantly gleamed in the soft, sweet air the Basin of Minas,
Where the ships, with their wavering shadows, were riding
at anchor.
Life had long been astir in the village, and clamorous labor
Knocked with its hundred hands at the golden gates of the
morning.
ClUp. 9.] EXILK OF THE ACADIANS. 45
II.
Now from the couhtry around, from the farms and the
neighboring hamlets,
Come in their holiday dresses the blithe Acadian peasants.
Many a glad good-morrow and jocund laugh from the
young folk
Made the bright air brighter, as up from the numerous
meadows
Where no path could be seen but the track of wheels in the
greensward,
Group after group appeared, and joined, or passed on the
highway.
in.
Long ere noon, in the village all sounds of labor were
silenced.
Thronged were the streets with people ; and noisy groups
at the house-doors
Sat in the cheerful sun, and rejoiced and gossiped together.
Every house was an inn, where all were welcomed and
feasted ;
For with this simple people, who lived like brothers together.
All things were held in common, and what one had was
another's.
IV.
Under the open sky, iu the odorous air of the orchard,
Bending with golden fruit, was spread the feast of betrothal.
There in the shade of the porch were the priest and the
notary seated ;
There good Benedict sat, and sturdy Basil, the blackamith.
46 THE SIXTEEN PEKFECTIVE LAWS OP AKT. [Vol. L
Not far withdrawn from these, by the cider-press and the
bee-hives,
Michael the fiddler was placed, with the gayest of hearts
and of waistcoats.
Shadow and light from the leaves alternately played on
his snow-white
Hair, as it waved in the wind ; and the jolly face of the fiddler
Glowed like a living coal when the ashes are blown from
the embers.
VI.
Gayly the old man sang to the vibrant sound of his fiddle.
And anon with his wooden shoes beat time to the music.
Merrily, merrily whirled the wheels of the dizzying dances
Under the orchard-trees and down the path to the
meadows ;
Old folk and young together, and children mingled among
them.
VII.
So passed the morning away. And lo ! with a summons
sonorous
Sounded the bell from its tower, and over the meadows a
drum beat.
Thronged ere long was the church with men. Without, in
the churchyard,
Waited the women. They stood by the graves and hung
on the head-stones
Garlands of autumn leaves and evergreens fresh from the
forest.
Chap. 2.) EXILE OF THE ACADIAXS. 47
VIII.
Then came the guard from the ships, and marching proudly
among them
Entered the sacred portal. With loud and dissonant clangor
Echoed the sound of their brazen drums from ceiling and
casement, —
Echoed a moment only, and slowly the ponderous portal
Closed, and in silence the crowd awaited the will of the
soldiers.
Then uprose their commander, and spake from the steps of
the alt.ir.
Holding aloft in his hands, with its seals, the royal com-
mission.
IX.
" You are convened this day," he said, " by his Majesty's
orders.
Clement and kind has he been ; but how you have
answered his kindness.
Let 3'our own hearts reply! To iny natural make and my
temper
Painful the task is I do, which to you I know must be
grievous.
Yet must I bow and obey, and deliver the will of our
monarch ;
Namely, that all your lands, and dwellings, and cattle of
all kinds,
Forfeited be to the crown ; and tliat you yourselves from
this province
Be transported to other lauds. God grant you may dwell
there
48 THB SIXTEEN PERFECTIVE LAWS OP AET. [Vol.1.
Ever as faithful subjects, a happy and peaceable people !
Prisoners now I declare you j for such is his Majesty's
pleasure I "
As, when the air is serene in the sultry solstice of summer.
Suddenly gathers a storm, and the deadly sling of the
hailstones
Beats down the farmer's com in the field and shatters his
windows,
Hiding the sun, and strewing the ground with thatch from
the house-roofs.
Bellowing fly the herds, and seek to break their enclosures ;
So on the hearts of the people descended the words of the
speaker.
Silent a moment they stood in speechless wonder, and then
rose
Louder and ever louder a wail of sorrow and anger,
And, by one impulse moved, they madly rushed to the
doorway.
Vain was the hope of escape; and cries and fierce im-
precations
Rang through the house of prayer; and high o'er the
heads of the others
Rose, wath his arms uplifted, the figure of Basil, the
blacksmith,
As, on a stormy sea, a spar is tossed by the billows.
Chap. S.J BXILK OP THK ACADIANS. 49
XII.
Flushed was his face and distorted with passion; and
wildly he shouted, —
"Down with the tyrants of England! we never have
sworn them allegiance !
Death to these foreiffn soldiers, who seize on our homes
and our harvests ! "
More he fain would have said, but the merciless hand of a
soldier
Smote him upon the mouth, and dragged him down to the
pavement.
XIII.
In the midst of the strife and tumult of angry contention,
Lo ! the door of the chancel opened, and Father Felician
Entered, with serious mien, and ascended the steps of the
altar,
liaising his reverend hand, with a gesture he awed into
silence
All that clamorous throng ; and thus he spake to his people :
XIV.
"What is this that ye do, my children? what madness has
seized you ?
Forty years of my life have I labored among you, and
taught you,
Not in word alf)ne, but in deed, to love one another !
Is this the fruit of my toils, of my vigils and prayers and
privations?
Have you so soon forgotten all lessons of love and forgive-
ness ?
60 THE SIXTEEN PERFECTIVE LAWS OP ART. [Tol. L
This ia the house of the Prince of Peace, and would you
profane it
Thus with violent deeds and hearts ovei-flowing with
hatred?"
XV.
Few were his words of rebuke, but deep in the hearts of
his people
Sank they, and sobs of contrition succeeded that passionate
outbreak ;
And they repeated his prayer, and said, " O Father, forgive
them!"
H. W. Longfellow.
THE MUSICIANS.
I.
The strings of my heart were strung by Pleasure,
And I laughed when the music fell on my ear ;
For he and Mirth played a joyful measure.
And they played so loud that I could not hear
The wailing and mourning of souls a- weary.
The strains of sorrow that sighed around ;
The notes of my heart sang blithe and cheery,
And I heard no other sound.
II.
Mirth and Pleasure, the music brothers,
Played louder and louder in joyful glee,
Chap. 2.J THE MUSICIANS. 61
But sometimes a discord was heard by others,
Though only the rhythm was heard by me.
Louder and louder and faster and faster,
The hands of those brothers played strain on strain,
Till, all of a sudden a mighty master
Swept them aside, and Pain,
III.
Pain, the musician, the soul refiner,
Restrung the strings of my quivering heart ;
And the air that he played was a plaintive minor.
So sad that the tear-drops were forced to start.
Each note was an echo of awful anguish.
As shrill as solemn, as sad as slow,
And my soul for a season seemed to languish
And faint with its weight of woe.
IV.
With skilfuLhands that were never weary,
This master of music played strain on strain ;
And between the bars of the miserere
He drew up the strings of my heart again.
And I was filled with a vague, strange wonder
To see that they did not break in two ;
" They are drawn so tight they will snaj) asunder,"
I thought, but instead they grew,
v.
In the hands of the Master, firmer and stronger,
And I could hear on the stilly air.
Now my ears were deafened by mirth no longer.
To sounds of sorrow, and grief, and despair.
52 THK SIXTEEN PERFECTIVE LAWS OF ART. [Vol. L
And my soul grew tender and kind to others;
My nature grew sweeter, my mind grew broad,
And I held all men to be my brothers,
Linked by the chastening rod.
VI.
My soul was lifted to God and heaven,
And when on my heart-strings fell again
The hands of Mirth and Pleasure, even.
There was no discord to mar the strain.
For Pain, the musician, the soul refiner.
Attuned the strings with a master hand,
And whether the music be major or minor,
It is always sweet and grand.
THE STORY OF THE CABLE.
1. There is a faith so expansive and a hope so elastic
that a man having them will keep on believing and
hoping till all danger is passed, and victory is sure.
When I talk across an ocean three thousand miles,
with my friends on the other side of it, and feel that
I may know any hour of the day if all goes well with
them, I think with gratitude of the immense energy
and perseverance of that one man, Cyrus W. Field,
who spent so many years of his life in perfecting a
Ch*p. 2] THE STORY OF THE CABLE. 53
communication second only in importance to the dis-
covery of this countiy.
2. The stoiy of his patient striving during all that
stormy period is one of the noblest records of American
enterprise, and only his own family know the whole
of it. It was a long, hard struggle ! Thirteen years
of anxious watching and ceaseless toil I Think what
that enthusiast accomplished by his untiring energy.
He made fifty voyages across the Atlantic, and when
everything looked darkest for his enterprise, his cour-
age never flagged for an instant. He must have suf-
fered privations and dangers manifold. Think of him
in those gloomy periods, pacing the decks of ships on
dark, stormy nights, in mid-ocean, or wandering in the
desolate forests of Newfoundland in pelting rains,
comfortless and forlorn.
3. I saw him in 1858, immediately after the first
cable had ceased to throb. Public excitement had
grown wild over the mysterious working of those
flashing wires, and when they stopped speaking the
reaction was intense. Stockholder, as well as the
public generally, grew exasperated and suspicious ;
unbelievers sneered at the whole project, and called
the telegraph a hoax from tlie beginning. They de-
clared that never a message had passed through the
unresponsive wires, and that Cyrus Field w.uj a liar I
The odium cast upon him was boundless. He was the
butt and the by -word of his time.
4. It was at this moment I saw him, and I well
54 THE SIXTEEN PERFECTIVE LAWS OF ART. [VoL I.
remember how cowardly I acted, and how courageous
he appeared ! I scarcely dared to face the man who
had encountered such an overwhelming disappointment,
and who was suffering such a terrible disgrace. But
when we met, and I saw how he rose to the occasion,
and did not abate one jot of heart or hope, I felt that
this man was indeed master of the situation, and would
yet silence the hosts of doubters who were thrusting
their darts into his sensitive spirit. Eight years more
he endured the odium of failure, but still kept plowing
across the Atlantic, flying from city to city, soliciting
capital, holding meetings, and forcing down the most
colossal discouragement.
5. At last day dawned again, and another cable was
paid out, this time from the deck of the Great Eastern.
Twelve hundred miles of it were laid down, and the
ship was just lifting her head to a stiff breeze, then
springing up, when, without a moment's warning, the
cable suddenly snapped short off and plunged into the
sea. Says the published account of this great disaster :
" Mr. Field came from the companion-way into the
saloon, and observed with admirable composure, though
his lip quivered and his cheek was white, * The cable
has parted, and has gone from the reel overboard ! ' "
Nine days and nights they dragged the bottom of
the sea for this lost treasure, and though they grappled
it three times, they could not bring it to the surface.
6. In that most eloquent speech made by Mr. Field
at the Chamber of Commerce banquet in New York,
Chap, 2.] THK STOBY OF THK CABLE. 55
one of the most touching recitals on record, he said :
" We returned to England defeated, but full of resolu-
tion to begin the battle anew." And this time his
energy was greater even than before. In five months
another cable was shipped on board the Great Eastern,
and this time, by the blessing of Heaven, the wires
were stretched, unharmed, from continent to continent.
7. Then came that never-to-be-forgotten search, in
four ships, for the lost cable. In the bows of one of
these vessels stood Cyrus Field, day and night, in
storm and fog, squall and calm, intently watching the
quiver of the grapnel that was dragging two miles
down on the bottom of the deep.
8. At length, on the last night of August, a little
before midnight, the spirit of this brave man was
rewarded. I shall here quote his own words, as none
others could possibly convey so well the thrilling inter-
est of that hour. He says: "All felt as if life and
death hung on the issue. It was only when the cable
was brought over the bow and on to the deck, that
men dared to breathe. Even then they hardly believed
their eyes. Some crept toward it to feel it, to be
sure it was there. Tlien we carried it along to the
electrician's room, to see if our long-souglit treasure
was alive or dead. A few minutes of suspense, and a
flash told of ilie lightning current again set free.
9. " Then the feeling long pent up buret forth.
Some turned away their heads and wept. Others
broke into cheei-s, and the cry run from man to man,
56 THB SIXTEEN PERFECTIVE LAWS OF ART. [Vol. I.
and was heard down in the engine-Tooms, deck below
deck, and from the boats on the water, and the other
ships, while rockets lighted up the darkness of the sea.
Then, with thankful hearts, we turned our faces again
to the west. But soon the wind rose, and for thirty-
six hours we were exposed to all the dangers of h
storm on the Atlantic.
10. " Yet, in the very height and fury of the gale, as
I sat in the electrician's room, a flash of light came up
from the deep, which, having crossed to Ireland, came
back to me in mid-ocean, telling me that those so dear
to me, whom I had left on the banks of the Hudson,
were well, and following us with their wishes and their
prayers. This was like a whisper of God from the sea,
bidding me keep heart and hope."
11. And now, after all those thirteen years of almost
superhuman struggle, and that one moment of almost
superhuman victory, I think we may safely include
Cyrus W. Field among the masters of the situation.
James T. Field.
Cb&p. 2.1 THE PETRIFIED FEKN. 67
THE PETRIFIED FERN.
I.
In a valley, centuries ago,
Grew a little fern-leaf, green and slender,
Veining delicate, and fibres tender ;
Waving, when the wind crept down so low.
Rushes tall, and moss, and grass grew round it,
Playful sunbeams darted in and found it.
Drops of dew stole in by night and crowned it.
But no foot of man e'er trod that way ;
Earth was young and keeping holiday.
II.
Monster fishes swam the silent main,
Stately forests waved their giant branches,
Mountains hurled their snowy avalanches.
Mammoth creatures stalked across the plain :
Xature reveled in grand mysteries.
But the little fern was not of these,
Did not number with the hills and trees;
Only grew and waved its wild, sweet way,
None ever came to note it day by day.
III.
Earth, one time, put on a frolic mood.
Heaved the rocks, and change*! the mighty motion
Of the deep strong currents of llie ocean.
Moved the plain and shook the hauglity wood,
58 THE SIXTEEN PERFECTIVE LAWS OF ART. (VoL L
Crushed the little fern in soft, moist clay,
Covered it and hid it safe away.
Oh the long, long centuries since that day!
Oh the agony ! Oh life's bitter cost
Since that useless little fern was lost !
IV.
Useless? Lost? There came a thoughtful man,
Searching Nature's secrets, far and deep ;
From a fissure in a rocky steep
He Avithdrew a stone, o'er which there ran
Fairy pencilings, a quaint design,
Veinings, leafage, fibres clear and fine,
And the fern's life lay in evei;y line !
So, I think, God hides some souls away,
Sweetly to surprise us, the last day.
Mary Lydia Bolles.
VALUE OF THE UNION.
1. I pRt)FESS, Sir, in my career hitherto, to have
kept steadily in view the prosperity and honor of the
whole country, and the preservation of our Federal
Union. It is to that Union we owe our safety at
home, and our considei-ation and dignity abroad. It is
to that Union that we are chiefly indebted for what-
ever makes us most proud of our country. That
Chap. 2-1 VALUE OF THE UXIOX. 59
Union we reached only by the discipline of our virtues
in the severe school of adversity. It had its origin
in the necessities of disordered finance, prostrate com-
merce, and ruined credit. Under its benign influences,
these great interests immediately awoke, as from the
dead, and sprang forth with newness of life.
2. Every year of its duration has teemed with fresh
proofs of its utility and its blessings ; and although
our territory has stretched out wider and wider, and
our population spread farther and farther, they have
not outrun its protection or its benefits. It has been
to us all a copious fountain of national, social, and
personal happiness.
3. I have not allowed myself, Sir, to look beyond the
Union, to see what might lie hidden in the dark recess
behind. I have not coolly weighed the chances of pre-
serving liberty when the bonds that unite us together
shall be broken asunder. I have not accustomed
myself to bang over the precipice of disunion, to see
whether, with my short sight, I can fathom the depth
of the abyss below ; nor could I regard him as a safe
counsellor in the affaiis of this government, Avliose
thoughts should be mainly bent on considering, not
how the Union may be best preserved, but how toler-
able might be the condition of the people when it
should be broken up and destroyed.
4. While the Union lasts, we have high, exciting,
gratifying prospects spread out before us, for us and
our children. Beyond that I seek not to penetrate the
60 THE SIXTEEN PERFECTIVE LAWS OF ART. [Vol, 1.
yeil. God grant that in my day, at least, that curtain
may not rise ! God grant that on ray vision never
may be opened what lies behind ! When my ej^es shall
be turned to behold for the last time the sun in heaven,
may I not see him shining on the broken and dishon-
ored fragments of a once glorious Union; on States,
dissevered, discordant, belligerent ; oq a land rent with
civil feuds, or drenched, it may be, in fraternal blood !
5. Let their last feeble and lingering glance rather
behold the gorgeous ensign of the republic, now known
and honored throughout the earth, still full high ad-
vanced, its arms and trophies streaming in their origi-
nal lustre, not a stripe erased or polluted, nor a single
star obscured, bearing for its motto, no such miserable
interrogatory as " What is all this worth ? " nor those
other words of delusion and folly, " Liberty first and
Union afterwards ; " but everywhere, spread all over in
characters of living light, blazing on all its ample folds,
as they float over the sea and over the land, and in
every wind under the whole heavens, that other senti-
ment dear to every true American heart, — " Liberty
and Union, now and forever, one and inseparable ! "
Daniel Webster.
.5 tjb
KEY TO CHAPTER THIRD.
-&M^
SELF-COMMAND.
S ELF-COMMAND in oratoiy, is shown by the surren-
der of every agent of the^^eaker to the^ truth. The
orator manifests a reliance on the power of truth. He
appears to have an unquestionin g faith that truth will
prevail jvhen_presented.
Such a manner implies a trust in t he_audience. An
apparent confidence jn the nobi lity^f the natures and
the purity^ the _heartsj)f those addressed, brings
them into vital sympathy with the speaker.
Tfc thn,t,J^ commanded hy truth is_jelf::C07nmc^
There is a sweet joy manifested by the orator when he
feels the certainty that the truth " runs and is glori-
fied." It appears as if the orator had taken himself
away, that the channel, through which the truth
coui-ses from its infinite source into ready hearts,
might be clear.
a
n Q,
rV^ .-K^ \liL
CHAPTER m.
ts
SELF-COM>LAJSrD.
A double minded man is unstable in all his loays ; for he that wavereth
like a loave of the sea, driven with the word and tossed. — St. James.
SPEECH IN REPLY TO HAYNE.
1. The gentleman, Sir, in declining to postpone the
debate, told the Senate, with the emphasis of his hand
upon his heart, that there was something rankling here^
which he wished to relieve. (Mr. Hayne rose, and
disclaimed having used the word rankling.') It would
not, Mr. President, be safe for the honorable member
to appeal to those around him, upon the question
whether he did in fact make use of that word. But
he may have been unconscious of it. At any rate, it is
enough that he disclaims it.
2. But still, with or without the use of that particu-
lar word, he had yet something here^ he said, of which
he wished to rid himself by an immediate reply. In
this respect. Sir, I have a great advantage over the
honorable gentleman. There is notliing here^ Sir,
63
64 THE SIXTEEN^ PERFECTIVE LAWS OF ART. [VoL I.
which gives me the slightest uneasiness ; neither fear,
nor anger, nor that which is sometimes more trouble-
some than either, the consciousness of having been in
the wrong. There is nothing, either originating here,
or now received here by the gentleman's shot. Noth-
ing originating here, for I had not the slightest feeling
of unkindness towards the honorable member.
3. Some passages, it is true, had occurred since our
acquaintance in this body, which I could have wished
might have been otherwise ; but I had used philosophy
and forgotten thera. I paid the honorable member the
attention of listening Avith respect to his first speech ;
and when he sat down, though surprised, and I must
even say astonished, at some of his opinions, nothing
was farther from my intention than to commence any
personal warfare. Through the whole of the few
remarks I made in answer, I avoided, studiously and
carefully, ever}' thing wliich I thought possible to be
construed into disrespect. And, Sir, while there is
thus nothing originating here which I have wished at
any time, or now wish, to discharge, I must repeat also,
that nothing has been received here which rankles^ or
in any way gives me annoyance.
4. I will not accuse the honorable member of violat-
ing the rules of civilized war ; I will not say that he
poisoned his arrows. But whether his shafts were, or
were not, dipped in that which would have caused
rankling if they had reached their destination, there
was not, as it happened, quite strength enough in the
Chap. 3.1 SPEECH IX REPLY TO HAYNE. 65
bow to bring them to their mark. If he wishes now to
gather up those shafts, he must look for them else-
where ; they will not be found fixed and quivering in
the object at which they were aimed.
'6. The honorable member complained that I had
slept on his speech. I did sleep on the gentleman's
speech, and slept soundly. And I slept equally well
on his speech of yesterday, i^Q which I am now reply-
ing. It is. quite possible that in this respect, also, I
possess some advantage over the honorable member,
attributable, doubtless, to a cooler temperament on
my part ; for, in truth, I slept upon his speeches
remarkably well.
6. He proceeded to ask me whether I had turned
upon him, in this debate, from the consciousness that
I should find an overmatch if I ventured on a contest
with his friend from Missouri. Matches and over-
matches ! Those terms are more applicable elsewhere
than here, and fitter for other assemblies than tliis.
Sir, the gentleman seems to forget where and what we
are. This is a Senate, a Senate of equals, of men
of individual honor and personal character, and of
absolute independence. We know no masters, we
acknowledge no dictators. This is a hall for mutual
consultation and discussion; not an arena for the
exhibition of champions.
ITj But, Sir, if it be imagined that by this mutual
quotation and conmiendation ; if it be supposed that, by
casting the characters of the drama, assiguing to each
66 THE SIXTEEN PERFECTIVE LAWS OF ART. [VoL I.
his part, to one the attack, to another the cry of onset ;
or if it be thought that, by a loud and empty vaunt of
anticipated victory, any laurels are to be won here ; if
it be imagined, especially, that any, or all these things
will shake any purpose of mine, I can tell the honor-
able member, once for all, that he is greatly mistaken,
and that he is dealing with one of whose temper and
character he has yet much t^ leam. Sir, I shall not
allow myself, on this occasion, I hope on no occasion,
to be betraj'-ed into any loss of temper.
8. But, Sir, the Coalition ! The Coalition ! Ay,
" the murdered Coalition ! " The gentleman asks, if I
were led or frightened into this debate by the spectre
of the Coalition. " Was it the ghost of the murdered
Coalition," he exclaims, " which haunted the member
from Massachusetts; and which, like the ghost of
Banquo, would never down ? '* "■ The murdered Coa-
lition ! " Sir, this charge of a coalition, in reference
to the late administration, is not original with the
honorable member. It did not spring up in the Senate.
Whether as a fact, as an argument, or as an embellish-
ment, it is all borrowed. He adopts it, indeed, from a
very low origin, and a still lower present condition.
It is one of the thousand calumnies with which the
press teemed, during an exciting political canvas.
9. But, Sir, the honorable member was not, for
other reasons, entirely happy in his allusion to the
stoiy of Banquo's murder and Banquo's ghost. It
was not, I think, the friends, but the enemies of the
Chap. 3-1 SPEECH IN REPLY TO HAYNE. 67
murdered Banquo, at whose bidding his spirit would
not down. The honorable gentleman is fresh in his
reading of the English classics, and can put me right
if I am wrong; but, according to my poor recollec-
tion, it was at those who had begun with caresses
and ended with foul and treacherous murder that the
gory locks were shaken. The ghost of Banquo, like
that of Hamlet, was an honest ghost. It disturbed no
innocent man. It knew where its appearance would
strike terror, and who would cry out, " A Ghost ! " It
made itself visible in the right quarter, and compelled
the guilty and the conscience-smitten, and none others,
to start, with,
" Pr'jthee, see there I behold ! look ! lo —
If I stand here, I saw him ! "
10. Their eyeballs were seared (was it not so, Sir ?)
who had thought to shield themselves by concealing
their own hand, and laying the imputation of the crime
on a low and hireling agency in wickedness ; who had
vainly attempted to stifle the workings of their own
coward consciences, by ejaculating, through white lips
and chattering teeth, " Thou canst not say I did it I "
I have misread the great Poet if those who had no way
partaken in the deed of the death either found that
they were, or feared that they should he^ pushed from
their stools by the ghost of the slain, or exclaimed to
a spectre created by their own fears and their own
remorse, " Avaunt ! ajid quit our sight ! "
r
68 THE SIXTEEN PERFECTIVE LAWS OF ART. [VoL 1.
11. There is another particular, Sir, in which the
honorable member's quick perception of resemblances
might, I should think, have seen something in the
story of Banquo, making it not altogether a subject of
the most pleasant contemplation. Those who murdered
Banquo, what did they win by it ? Substantial good ?
Permanent power? Or disappointment, rather, and
sore mortification ; dust and ashes — the common fate
of vaulting ambition overleaping itself? Did not
even-handed justice ere long commend the poisoned
chalice to their own lips ? Did they not soon find that
for another they had "filed their mind?" that their
ambition, though apparently for the moment successful,
had but put a barren sceptre in their grasp? Ay,
Sir,
" a barren sceptre in their grip,
Thence to he wrencKd hy an unlineal hand^
JVb son of theirs succeeding^
12. Sir, I need pursue the allusion no further. I
leave the honorable gentleman to run it out at his
leisure, and to derive from it all the gratification it is
calculated to administer. If he finds himself pleased
with the associations, and prepared to be quite satisfied
though the parallel should be entirely completed, I had
almost said I am satisfied also ; but that I shall think
of. Yes, Sir, I will think of that.
13. In the course of my observations the other day,
Mr. President, I paid a passing tribute of respect to a
Chap. 3.1 SPEECH IN REPLY TO HATNE. 69
very worthy man, Mr. Dane, of Massachusetts. It so
happened that he drew the Ordinance of 1787, for
the government of the Northwestern Territory. A
man of so much ability, and so little pretence ; of so
great a capacity to do good, and so unmixed a disposi-
tion to do it tor its own sake ; a gentleman who had
acted an important part, forty yeai-s ago, in a measure
the influence of which is still deeply felt in the very
matter which was the subject of debate, might, I
thought, receive from me a commendatory recognition.
14. But the honorable member was inclined to be
facetious on the subject. He was rather disposed to
make it matter of ridicule, that I had introduced into
the debate the name of one Nathan Dane, of whom he
assures us he had never before heard. Sir, if the hon-
orable member had never before heard of Mr. Dane, I
am sorry for it. It shows him less acquainted with the
public men of the countiy than I had supposed. Let
me tell him, however, that a sneer from him at the
mention of the name of Mr. Dane is in bad taste. It
may well be a maik of ambition. Sir, either with
the honorable gentleman or myself, to accomplish
as much to make our names known to advantage,
and remembered with gratitude, as Mr. Dane has
accomplished.
Daniel WEusTEii.
70 THE SIXTEEN PERFECTIVE LAWS OF ART. [Vol. I.
ABSALOM.
I.
The waters slept. Night's silvery veil hung low
On Jordan's bosom, and the eddies curled
Their glassy rings beneath it, like the still,
Unbroken beating of the sleeper's pulse.
The reeds bent down the stream ; the willow leaveS;
With a soft cheek upon the lulling tide,
Forgot the lifting winds ; and the long stems,
Whose flowers the water, like a gentle nurse,
Bears on its bosom, quietly gave way.
And leaned, in graceful attitudes, to rest.
II.
How strikingly the course of nature tells,
By its light heed of human suffering,
That it was fashioned for a happier world !
III.
King David's limbs were weary. He had fled
From far Jerusalem ; and now he stood
With his faint people, for a little rest
Upon the shore of Jordan. The light wand
Of morn was stirring, and he bared his brow
To its refreshing breath ; for he had worn
The mourner's covering, and had not felt
That he could see his people until now.
Chap. 3] ABSALOM. 71
They gathered round him on the fresh green bank,
And spoke their kindly -words ; and, as the sun
Rose up in heaven, he knelt among them there,
And bowed his head upon his hands to pray.
IV.
Oh ! when the heart is full — when bitter thoughts
Come crowding thickly up for utterance,
And the poor, common words of courtesy
Are such a very mockery — how much
The bursting heart may pour itself in prayer!
V.
He prayed for Israel ; and his voice went up
Strongly and fervently. He prayed for those
Whose love had been his shield; and his deep tones
Grew tremulous. But oh ! for Absalom —
For his estranged, misguided Absalom —
The proud, bright being, who had burst away,
In all his i)rincely beauty, to defy
The heart that cherished him — for him he i)oured.
In agony that would not be controlled.
Strong supplication, and forgave him there.
Before his God, f(;r his deep sinfulness.
VI.
The pall was settled. IIo who slept beneath
Was straitened for the grave ; and as the folds
Sunk to the still ])roportions, they betrayed
The matchless symmetry of Absalom.
72 THE SIXTEEN PERFECTIVE LAWS OP AUT. fVol. i
His hair was yet unshorn, and silken curls
Were floating round the tassels, as they swayed
To the admitted air, as glossy now
As when, in hours of gentle dalliance, bathing
The snowy fingers of Judea's girls.
VII.
His helm was at his feet ; his banner, soiled
With trailing through Jerusalem, was laid,
Reversed, beside him ; and the jeweled hilt,
Whose diamonds lit the passage of his blade,
Rested, like mockery, on his covered brow.
VIII.
The soldiers of the king trod to and fro.
Clad in the garb of battle ; and their chief,
The mighty Joab, stood beside the bier.
And gazed upon the dark pall steadfastly.
As if he feared the slumberer might stir.
A slow step startled him. He grasped his blade
As if a trumpet rang ; but the bent form
Of David entered, and he gave command,
In a low tone, to his few followers,
And left him with his dead.
IX.
The king stood still
Till the last echo died ; then, throwing off
The sackcloth from his brow, and laying back
The pall from :he still features of his child,
He bowed his head upon him, and broke forth
In the resistless eloquence of woe :
Chap. 3.] ABSALOM. 73
" Alas ! my noble boy, that thou shouldst die !
Thou, who wert made so beautifully fair !
That death should settle in thy glorious eye,
And leave his stillness in this clustering hair.
How could he mark thee for the silent tomb —
My proud boy, Absalom !
XI.
" Cold is thy brow, my son ! and I am chill.
As to my bosom I have tried to press thee.
How was I wont to feel my pulses thrill,
Like a rich harp-string, yearning to caress thee,
And hear thy sweet ' My father !"* from these dumb
And cold lips, Absalom !
XII.
" The grave hath won thee. I shall hear the gush
Of music, and the voices of the young;
And life shall pass me in the mantling blush,
And the dark tresses to the soft winds tlung ;
But thou no more, with thy sweet voice, shalt come
To meet me, Absalom !
Xlll.
"And, oh! when I am stricken, and my heart,
Like a bruised reed, is waiting to be broken,
How will its love for thee, as I dcjiart.
Yearn for thine car to drink its last deep token 1
It were so sweet, amid death's gathering gloom,
To see thee, Absalom !
74 THE SIXTEEN PERFECTIVE LAWS OF ABT. [Vol. 1
XIV.
*♦ And now, farewell ! 'Tis hard to give thee up,
With death so like a gentle slumber on thee —
And thy dark sin ! — oh, I could drink the cup,
If from this woe its bitterness had won thee.
May God have called thee, like a wanderer, home,
My erring Absalom ! "
XV.
He covered up his face, and bowed himself
A moment on his chUd ; then, giving him
A look of melting tenderness, he clasped
His hands convulsively, as if in prayer ;
And, as if strength were given him of God,
He rose up calmly, and composed the pall
Firmly and decently, and left him there,
As if his rest had been a breathing sleep.
N. P. Willis.
ZENOBIA'S AMBITION.
1. I AM charged with pride and ambition. The charge
is true, and I glory in its truth. Who ever achieved
any thing great in letters, arts, or arms, who was not
ambitious? Csesar was not more ambitious than
Cicero. It was but in another way. Let the ambition
be a noble one, and who shall blame it ? I confess I
did once aspire to be queen, not only of Palmyra, but
Chap. 3.] zenobia's ambition. 75
of the East. That I am. I now aspire to remain so.
Is it not an honorable ambition ? Does it not become
a descendant of the Ptolemies and of Cleopatra?
2. I am applauded by you all for what I have already
done. You would not it should have been less. But
why pause here ? Is so much ambition praiseworthy,
and more criminal? Is it fixed in nature that the
limits of this empire should be Egypt, on the one
hand, the Hellespont and the Euxine, on the other?
Were not Suez and Armenia more natural limits ? Or
hath empire no natural limit, but is broad as the genius
that can devise, and the power that can win?
3. Rome has the West. Let Palmyra possess the
East. Not that nature prescribes this and no more.
The gods prospering, and I swear not that the Mediter-
ranean shall hem me in upon the west, or Persia on
the east. Longi'nus is right, — I would that the world
were mine. I feel, within, the will and the power to
bless it, were it so.
4. Are not my people happy ? I look upon the past
and the present, upon my nearer and remoter subjects,
and ask, nor fear the answer. Whom have I wronged ?
What province have I oppressed ? What city pillaged ?
What region drained with taxes ? Whose life have I
unjustly taken, or estates coveted or robbed? Wliose
honor have I wantonly assailed ? Whose rights, though
of the weakest and poorest, have I trenched upon ? I
dwell, where I would ever dwell, in the hearts of my
people. It is written in your faces, that I reign not
76 THE SIXTEEN PERFECTIVE LAWS OF ART. [Vol. I.
more over you than within you. The foundation of
my throne is not more power, than love.
5. Suppose now, my ambition add another province
to our realm. Is it an evil ? The kingdoms already
bound to us by the joint acts of ourself and the late
royal Odena'tus, we found discordant and at war.
They are now united and at peace. One harmonious
whole has grown out of hostile and sundered parts.
At my hands they receive a common justice and equal
benefits. The channels of their commerce have I
opened, and dug them deep and sure. Prosperity and
plenty are in all their borders. The streets of our
capital bear testimony to the distant and various in-
dustry which here seeks its market.
6. This is no vain boasting : — receive it not so, good
friends. It is but truth. He who traduces himself,
sins with him who traduces another. He who is unjust
to himself, or less than just, breaks a law, as well as
he who hurts his neighbor. I tell you what I am, and
what I have done, that your trust for the future may
not rest upon ignorant grounds. If I am more than
just to myself, rebuke me. If I have overstepped the
modesty that became me, I am open to your censure,
and will bear it.
7. But I have spoken, that you may know your
queen, — not only by her acts, but by her admitted
principles. I tell you then that I am ambitious, — that
I crave dominion, and while I live will reign. Sprung
from a line of kings, a throne is my natural seat. I
Chap. 3.] COLUMBUS DISCOVERS THE NEW WORLD. 77
love it. But I strive, too, — you can bear me witness
that I do, — that it shall be, while I sit upon it, an
honored, unpolluted seat. If I can, I will hang a yet
brighter glory around it.
William Ware.
COLUMBUS FIRST DISCOVERS LAND IN THE
NEW WORLD.
1. The breeze had been fresh all day, with more sea
than usual, and they had made great progress. At sun-
set they had stood again to the west, and were plough-
ing the waves at a rapid rate, the Pinta keeping
the head from her superior sailing. The greatest
animation prevailed throughout the ships ; not an eye
was closed that night. As the evening darkened,
Columbus took his station on the top of the castle or
cabin on a high poop of his vessel, ranging his eye
along the dusky horizon, and maintaining an intense
and unremitting watch.
2. About ten o'clock, he thought he beheld a light
glimmering at a great distance. Fearing his eager
hopes might deceive him, he called to Pedro Gutierrez,
gentleman of the king's bed-clianiber, and inquired
whether he saw such a light; the latter replied in the
aflBrmative. Doubtful whether it might not yet be
78 THE SIXTEEX PERFECTIVE LAWS OF ART. fVo). I.
some delusion of the fancy, Columbus called Rodrigo
Sanchez, of Segovia, and made the same inquiry. By
the time the latter had ascended the round-house, the
light had disappeared.
3. They saw it once or twice afterwards in sudden
and passing gleams, as if it were a torch in the bark
of a fisherman, rising and sinking with the waves, or
in the hand of some person on shore, borne up and
down as he walked from house to house. So transient
and uncertain were these gleams that few attached any
importance to them; Columbus, however, considered
them as certain signs of land, and, moreover, that the
land was inhabited.
4. They continued their course until in the morn-
ing, when a gun from the Pinta gave the joyful signal
of land. It was first descried by a mariner named
Rodrigo de Triana ; but the reward was afterwards ad-
judged to the admiral for having previously perceived
the light. The land was now clearly seen about two
leagues distant ; whereupon they took in sail, and lay
to, waiting impatiently for the dawn.
5. The thoughts and feelings of Columbus in this
little space of time must have been tumultuous and
intense. At length, in spite of every difficulty and
danger, he had accomplished his object. The great
mystery of the ocean was revealed ; his theory, which
had been the scoff of sages, was triumphantly estab-
lished ; he had secured to himself a glory durable as
the world itself.
Chap. 3.] COLUMBUS DISCOVERS THE NEW WORLD. 79
6. It is difficult to conceive the feelings of such
a man at such a moment, or the conjectures which
must have tlironged upon his mind, as to the land
before him, covered with darkness. That it was fruit-
ful was evident from the vegetables which floated from
its shores. He thought, too, that he perceived the
fragrance of aromatic groves. The moving light he
had beheld proved it the residence of man.
7. But what were its inhabitants ? were they like
those of the other parts of the globe; or were they
some strange and monstrous race, such as the imagina-
tion was prone in those times to give to all remote and
unknown regions ? Had he come upon some wild
island far in the Indian Sea ; or was this the famed
Cipango itself, the object of his golden fancies ?
8. A thousand speculations of the kuid must have
swarmed upon him, as, with his anxious crews, he
waited for the night to pass away, wondering whether
the morning light would reveal a savage wilderness,
or dawn upon spicy gi-oves, and glittering fanes, and
gilded cities, and all the splendor of oriental civiliza-
tion.
Washington Irving.
80 THK SIXTEEN PERFECTIVE LAWS OF AET. IVoL I,
CATILINE AND AURELIA.
Catiline. I will abandon Rome, — give back her scorn
With tenfold scorn : break up all league with her, —
All memories. I will not breathe her air,
Nor warm me with her fire, nor let my bones
Mix with her sepulchres. The oath is sworn.
Aurelia. Hear me, Lord Catiline :
The day we wedded, — 'tis but three short years !
You were the first patrician here, — and I
Was Marius' daughter ! There was not in Rome
An eyfc, however haughty, but would sink
When I turned on it : when I pass'd the streets
My chariot wheel was foUow'd by a host
Of your chief senators ; as if their gaze
Beheld an empress on its golden round ;
An earthly providence !
Catiline. 'Twas so ! — 'twas so !
But it is vanished — gone.
Aurelia. By yon bright sun !
That day shall come again ; or, in its place,
One that shall be an era to the world !
Catiline. What's in your thoughts ?
Aurelia. Our high and hurried life
Has left us strangers to each other's souls :
But now we think alike. You have a sword,—
Have had a famous name i' the legions !
Catiline. Hush !
Aurelia. Have the walls ears? Great Jove! 1 wish
they had ;
And tongues too, to bear witness to my oath.
And tell it to all Rome.
Chap. S.] CATILINE AND AURKLIA. 81
Catiline. Would you destroy ?
Anrelia. Were I a thunderbolt !
Rome's ship is rotten :
Has she not cast you out ; and would you sink
With her, when she can give you no gain else
Of her fierce fellowship ? Who'd seek the chain
That link'd him to his mortal enemy ?
Who'd face the pestilence in his foe's house ?
Who, when the prisoner drinks by chance the cup,
That was to be his death, would squeeze the dregs
To find a drop to bear him company?
Catiline. It will not come to this.
Anrelia. Shall we be dragg'd
A show to all the city rabble ; — robb'd —
Down to the very mantle on our backs, —
A pair of branded beggars ! Doubtless Cicero —
Catiline. Curs'd be the ground he treads !
Name him no more.
Anrelia. Doubtless he'll see us to the city gates ;
'Twill be the least respect that he can pay
To his fallen rival. Do you hear, my lord ?
Deaf as the rock {aside). With all his lictors shouting,
"Room for the noble vagrants; all caps off
For Catiline! for him that would be consul."
Catiline. Thus to be, like the scorpion, ringed with
fire.
Till I sting my own heart! {aside). There is no hopel
Aurelia. One hope there is, worth all the rest —
revenge !
The time is harrass'd, jjoor, and discontent;
Your spirit practised, keen, and desperate, —
82 THB SIXTEEN PERFECTIVE LAWS OP AET. [Vol. L
The senate full of feuds, — the city vexed
With petty tyranny, — the legions wronged —
Catiline. Yet who has stirred ?
Woman, you paint the air
With passion's pencil.
Aurelia. Were my will a sword !
Catiline. Hear me, bold heart ! The whole gross blood
of Rome
Could not atone ray wrongs ! I'm soul-shrunk, sick,
Weary of man ! And now my mind is fix'd
For Libya : there to make companionship
Rather of bear and tiger, — of the snake, —
The lion in his hunger, — than of man !
Aurelia. Were my tongue thunder — I would cry,
Revenge !
Catiline. No more of this !
In, to your chamber, wife !
There is a whirling lightness in my brain
That will not now bear questioning. — Away I \^Exit
Aurelia.
I feel a nameless pressure on my brow,
As if the heavens wei-e thick with sudden gloom ;
A shapeless consciousness, as if some blow
Were hanging o'er my head. They say such thoughts
Partake of prophecy. \_He sta7ids at the casement.
This air is living sweetness. Golden sun.
Shall I be like thee yet ? The clouds have past —
And, like some mighty victor, he returns
To his red city in the west, that now
Spreads all her gates, and lights her torches up,
In triumph for her glorious conquerer. G. Croly.
KEY TO CHAPTER FOURTH.
FORESIGHT.
Foresight as applied to oratory, is a leading of the
mind of the hearer onward from the _ cert ainty of_ the
ta^ith already_pres.eiLtgd ^ to an a nticipation of still
greater things to be r evealed herea fter. " Two truths
lire told, as happy prologues to the swelling act of the
imperial theme." " Glamis, thou art, and Cawdor,
and shalt be what thou art promised." In all true
oratory, there is always this _anticipation^ this lookin_g
forward for more th an has been revealed. The audi-
ence should be left, at the close of a speech, with the
feeling that^ that which ha s__been_said is only an inlxo-
d uction to that which the orator j ;ould and would
reveal, if time and opportunity permitted him to do so.
By the use of this principle, the deepest interest is
awakened and maintained in the mind of the audience,
together with the disposition to yjursue the subje ct
furthe r.
If all clergymen obeyed this law we should never
hear complaints of long sermons, even tliough the
preacher dwelt on his "sixteenthly," and tlien con-
84 THB SIXTEEN PERFECTIVE LAWS OF ART. [Vol. I.
tinued with his " improvement," as he did two or
three generations since, even when the mercury was
at zero because of no fire in the meeting-house, except
that of the living word.
Many speakers, who would otherwise be successful,
are failures because whatever they say has the atmos-
phere, emphasis, and color of voice which seem to
say, *' there is so much, and no more, and herein I
tell it all to you. You are now acquainted with all
the truth the statement contains. There the truth
begins, and here it ends."
This law of foresight is a fascinating power which
Shakespeare understood when he put it into the mouth
of Lady Macbeth to say to her husband, when she
would lead him to do that which she feared the " milk
of human kindness " in his nature would prevent his
executing, " Great Glamis ! worthy Cawdor ! greater
than both, by the all-hail hereafter ! "
The expression of foresight is not given by means
of words only, but by the manner in which their
meaning is expressed through voice, look, bearing,
attitude, and movement ; all of which continually
seem to say, "the se utterances are only as *a few
drops before a more plentiful shower.' "
CHAPTER IV.
FORESIGHT.
Not as though I had already attained, either were already perfect:
hut I follow after, reaching forth unto those things which are before.—
Phillipians.
TOUSSAINT'S LAST STRUGGLES FOR HAYTL
1. It was 1801. The Frenchmen who lingered on
the island described its prosperity and order as almost
incredible. You might trust a child with a bag of gold
to go from Samana to Port-au-Prince without risk.
Peace was in every household; the valleys laughed
with fertility ; culture climbed the mountains ; the
commerce of the world was represented in its harbors.
At this time Europe concluded the Peace of Amiens,
and Napoleon took his seat on the throne of France.
He glanced his eyes across the Atlantic, and, with
a single stroke of his pen, reduced Cayenne and
Martinique back into chains. He then said to his
council, " What shall I do with St. Domingo?" The
slaveholders said, " (Jive it to us."
86 THE SIXTEEN PEKFECTIVE LAWS OF ART. [Vol. I.
2. Colonel Vincent, who had been private secretary
to Toussaint, wrote a letter to Napoleon, in which he
said : " Sire, leave it alone ; it is the happiest spot
in your dominions ; God raised this man to govern ;
races melt under his hand. He has saved you this
island ; for I know of my own knowledge that when
the republic could not have lifted a finger to prevent
it, George III. offered him any title and any revenue
if he would hold the island under tke British crown.
He refused, and saved it for France."
3. Napoleon turned awa}'- from his council, and is
said to have remarked, " I have sixty thousand re-
publican soldiers : I must find them something to do."
He meant to say, " I am about to seize the crown ; I
dare not do it in the faces of sixty thousand republican
soldiers : I must give them some work at a distance
to do." He resolved to crush Toussaint, and sent
against him an army, giving to General Leclerc thirty
thousand of his best troops, with orders to re-introduce
slavery.
4. Mounting his horse, and riding to the eastern
end of the island, Samana, he looked out on a sight
such as no native had ever seen before. Sixty ships
of the line, crowded by the best soldiers of Europe,
rounded the point. They were soldiers who had
never yet met an equal, whose tread, like Caesar's,
had shaken Europe, — soldiers who had scaled the
pyramids and planted the French banners on the walls
of Rome. He looked a moment, counted the flotilla.
Chap. 4.] TOUSSAINT's last STRUGGLE FOE HATTI. 87
let the reins fall on the neck of his horse, and, turning
to Cristophe, exclaimed : " All France is come to
Hayti ; they can only come to make us slaves ; and
we are lost ! " He then recognized the only mistake
of his life, — his confidence in Bonaparte, which had
led him to disband his army.
5. Returning to the hills, he issued the only procla-
mation which bears his name and breathes vengeance :
" My children, France comes to make us slaves. God
gave us liberty ; France has no right to take it away.
Burn the cities, destroy the harvests, tear up the roads
with cannon, poison the wells, show the white man the
hell he comes to make ; " and he was obeyed.
6. "When the great William of Orange saw Loui&
XIV. cover Holland with troops, he said, " Break
down the dikes, give Holland back to ocean;" and
Europe said, " Sublime ! " When Alexander saw the
armies of France descend upon Russia, he said, " Burn
Moscow, starve back the invaders ; " and Europe said,
" Sublime ! " This black saw all Europe marshaled
to crush him, and gave to his people the same lieroic
example of defiance.
7. It is true, the scene grows bloodier as we proceed.
But, remember, the white man fitly accompanied his
infamous attempt to reduce freemen to slavery with
every bloody and cruel device that bitter and shame-
less hate could invent. Aristocracy is always cruel.
The black man met the attempt, as every such attempt
should be met, with war to the hilt. In hia first
88 THE SIXTEEN PERFECTIVE LAWS OF ART. [Vol. L
struggle to gain his freedom he had been generous
and merciful, saved lives and pardoned enemies, as
the people in every age and clime have always done
when rising against aristocrats. Now, to save his
liberty, the negro exhausted every means, seized every
weapon and turned back the hateful invaders with a
vengeance as terrible as their own, though even now
he refused to be cruel.
8. Leclerc sent word to Cristophe that he was about
to land at Cape City. Cristophe said, " Toussaint is
governor of the island. I will send to him for per-
mission. If without it a French soldier sets foot on
shore, I will burn the town and fight over its ashes."
9. Leclerc landed. Cristophe took two thousand
white men, women, and children, and carried them to
the mountains for safety, then with his own hands set
fire to the splendid palace which French architects
had just finished for him, aad in forty hours the place
was in ashes. The battle was fought in its streets,
and the French driven back to their boats. Wherever
they went they were met with fire and sword. Once,
resisting an attack, the blacks, Frenchmen born, shouted
the Marseilles Hymn, and the French stood still ;
they could not fight the Marseillaise. And it was not
till their officers sabred them on that they advanced,
and then they were beaten.
10. Beaten in the field, the French then took to
lies. They issued proclamations, saying, " We do not
come to make you slaves ; this man Toussaint tells
Chap. 4.] TOUSSAINt's LAST STKUGGUE FOB HATfXI. 89
you lies. Join us, and you shall have the rights you
claim." They cheated every one of his officers except
Cristophe and two others, and finally these also de-
serted him, and he was left alone. He then sent word
to Leclerc, " I will submit. I could continue the
struggle for years, — could prevent a single Frenchman
from safely quitting your camp. But I hate blood-
shed. I have fought only for tlie liberty of my race.
Guarantee that, I will submit and come in." He took
the oath to be a faithful citizen ; and on the same
crucifix Leclerc swore that he should be faithfully
protected, and that the island should be free.
11. As the French general glanced along the line
of his splendidly equipped troops, and saw opposite
Toussaint's ragged, ill-armed followers, he said to him,
"L'Ouverture, had you continued the war, where could
you have got arms?" — "I would have taken yours,"
was the Spartan reply.
12. He went down to his house in peace ; it was
summer. Leclerc remembered that the fever months
were coming, when his army would be in hospitals,
and when one motion of that royal hand would sweep
his troops into the sea. He was too dangerous to be
left at large. So they summoned him to attend a
council; he went, and the moment he entered the
room the officers drew their swords and told him lie
was prisoner.
13. They put him on shipboard, and weighed anchor
for France. As the island faded from his sight he
90 THE SIXTEEN PERFECTIVE LAWS OF ART. [Vol. I.
turned to the captain and said, " You think you have
rooted up the tree of hberty, but I am only a branch ;
I have planted the tree so deep that all France can
never root it up."
14. He was sent to the Castle of St. Joux, to a
dungeon twelve feet by twenty, built wholly of stone,
with a narrow window, high up on one side, looking
out on the snows of Switzerland. In this living tomb
the child of the sunny tropic was left to die.
15. From the moment he was betrayed the negroes
began to doubt the French, and rushed to arms. Then
flashed forth that defying courage and sublime endur-
ance which show how alike all races are when tried in
the same furnace. The war went on. Napoleon sent
over thirty thousand more soldiers. But disaster still
followed their efforts. What the sword did not devour
the fever ate up. They were chased from battle-field
to battle-field, from fort to fort, and finally the French
commander begged the British admiral to cover the
remnant of his troops with the English flag, and the
generous negroes suffered the invaders to embark
undisturbed.
16. Hayti is become a civilized state, the seventh
nation in the catalogue of commerce with this country,
inferior in morals and education to none of the West
Indian isles. Foreign merchants trust her courts as
willingly as they do our own. Toussaint made her
what she is.
17. In this work there was grouped around him a
Chap. 4.] BIRDS OF PASSAGE. 91
score of men, mostly of pure negro blood, who ably
seconded his efforts. Toussaint was indisputably their
chief. Courage, purpose, endumnce, — these are the
tests. He did plant a state so deep that all the
world has not been able to root it up.
Wendell Phillips.
BIRDS OF PASSAGE.
Birds, joyous birds of the wandering wing !
Whence is it ye come with the flowers of spring?
" We come from the shores of the green old Nile,
From the land where the roses of Sharon smile,
From the palms that wave through the Indian sky,
From the myrrh-trees of glowing Araby.
II.
" We have swe}H; o'er the cities in song renowned ;
Silent they lie, with the deserts around,
We have crossed proud rivers, whose tide hath rolled
All dark with the warrior-blood of old ;
And each worn wing hath regained its home,
Under peasant's roof-tree, or monarch's dome."
III.
And what have ye found in the monarch's dome,
Since last ye travnrsi'd the blue sea's foam?
92 THE SIXTEEN PERFECTIVE LAWS OF ART. [Vol. I.
" We have found a change, we have found a pall,
And a gloom o'ershadowing the banquet-hall,
And a mark on the floor as of life-drop spilt
Naught looks the same save the nest we built !
5
IV.
O joyous birds, it hath still been so ;
Through the halls of kings doth the tempests go !
But the huts of the hamlet lie still and deep,
And the hills o'er their quiet a vigil keep.
Say, what have ye found in the peasant's cot,
Since last ye parted from that sweet spot?
" A change we have found there — and many a change!
Faces and footsteps, and all things strange
Gone are the heads of the silvery hair,
And the young that were, have a brow of care,
And the place is hushed where the children played ;
Naught looks the same, save the nest we made ! "
VI.
Sad is your tale of the beautiful earth,
Birds that o'er-sweep it, in power and mirth !
Yet through the wastes of the trackless air
Ye have a Guide, and shall we despair ?
Ye over desert and deep have passed ;
So we may reach our bright home at last.
Mrs. Hemans.
Chap. 4.1 KCCLESIASTK8 Xll. 93
ECCLESIASTES XIL
1. Remember now thy Creator in the days of thy
youth, while the evil days come not, nor the years
draw nigh, when thou shalt say, I have no pleasure in
them ;
2. While the sun, or the light, or the moon, or the
stars, be not darkened, nor the clouds return after the
rain :
3. In the day when the keepei-s of the house shall
tremble, and the strong men shall bow themselves, and
the grindera cease because they are few, and those that
look out of the windows be darkened,
4. And the doors shall be shut in the streets, when
the sound of the grinding is low, and he shall rise
up at the voice of the bird, and all the daughters of
music shall be brought low ;
5. Also when they shall be afraid of that which is
high, and fears shall be in the way, and the almond
tree shall flourish, and the grasshopper shall be a
burden, and desire shall fail : because man goeth to
his long home, and the mourners go about the streets :
6. Or ever the silver cord be loosed, or the golden
bowl be broken, or the pitcher be broken at the foun-
tain, or the wheel broken at the cistern.
7. Then shall the dust retuin to the earth as it
was: and the spirit shall return unto God who gave it.
94 THE SIXTEEN PERFKCTIVK LAWS OF ART. [Vol. 1
13. Let us hear the conclusion of the whole matter:
Fear God, and keep his commandments : for this is
the whole duty of man.
14. For God shall bring every work into judgment,
with every secret thing, whether it be good, or whether
it be evil.
THE TWO HUNDREDTH ANNIVERSARY OF
THE LANDING OF THE PILGRIMS.
1. Let us rejoice that we behold this day. Let us
be thankful that we have lived to see the bright and
happy breaking of the auspicious morn, which com-
mences the third century of the history of New
England. Auspicious, indeed, — bringing a happiness
beyond the common allotment of Providence to men,
— full of present joy, and gilding with bright beams
the prospect of futurity, is the dawn that awakens us
to the commemoration of the landing of the Pilgrims.
2. Living at an epoch which naturally marks the
progress of the history of our native land, we have
come hither to celebrate the great event with which
that history commenced. Forever honored be this,
the place of our fathers' refuge ! Forever remembered
the day which saw them, weary and distressed, broken
Chap. 4.] THE LANDING OF THE PILGRIMS. 95
in everything but spirit, poor in all but faith and
courage, at last secure from the dangers of wintry
seas, and impressing this shore with the first footsteps
of civilized man !
3. It is a noble faculty of our nature which enables
us to connect our thoughts, our sympathies, and our
happiness with what is distant in place or time ; and,
looking before and after, to hold communion at once
with our ancestors and our posterity. Human and
mortal although we are, we are nevertheless not mere
insulated beings without relation to the past or future.
Neither the point of time, nor, the spot of earth, in
which we physically live, bounds our rational and
intellectual enjoyments. We live in the past by a
knowledge of its history ; and in the future by hope
and anticipation,
4. By ascending to an association with our ances-
tors ; by contemplating their example and studying
their character ; by partaking their sentiments, and
imbibing their spirit ; by accompanying them in their
toils, by sympathizing in their sufferings, and rejoicing
in their successes and their triumplis, — we seem to
belong to their age, and to mingle our own existence
with theirs. We become their contemporaries, live
the lives which they lived, endure what they endured,
and partake in the rewards which they enjoyed.
5. And in like manner, by running along the line
of future time, by contemplating the probable fortunes
of those who are coming after us, by attempting some-
96 THE SIXTEEN PERFECTIVE LAWS OF ART. [Vol. 1.
thing which may promote their happiness, and leave
some not dishonorable memorial of ourselves for their
regard, when we shall sleep with the fathers, we
protract our own earthly being, and seem to crowd
whatever is future, as well as all that is past, into the
narrow compass of our earthly existence.
6. As it is not a vain and false, but an exalted and
religious, imagination which leads us to raise our
thoughts from the orb, which, amidst this universe
of worlds, the Creator has given us to inhabit, and
to send them with something of the feeling which
nature prompts, and, teaches to be proper among
children of the same Eternal Parent, to the contempla-
tion of the myriads of fellow-beings, with which his
goodness has peopled the infinite of space ; so neither
is it false or vain to consider ourselves as interested
and connected with our whole race, through all time ;
allied to our ancestors ; allied to our posterity ; closely
compacted on all sides with others ; ourselves being
but links in the great chain of being which begins
with the origin of our race, runs onward through its
successive generations, binding together the past, the
present, and the future, and terminating at last, with
the consummation of all things earthly, at the throne
of God.
7. There may be, and there often is, indeed, a
regard for ancestry which nourishes only a weak
pride ; as there is also a care for posterity, which only
disguises an habitual avarice, or hides the workings
Chap. 4.] THE LANDING OF THE PILGRIMS. 91
of a low and grovelling vanity. But there is also
a moral and philosophical respect for oar ancestors,,
which elevates the character and improves the heart.
Next to the sense of religious duty and moral feel-
ing, I hardly know what should bear with stronger
obligation on a liberal and enlightened mind, than a
consciousness of alliance with excellence wliich is
departed ; and a consciousness, too, that in its acts
and conduct, and even in its sentiments and thoughts,
it may be actively operating on the happiness of those
who come after it.
8. Poetry is found to have few stronger conceptions,
by which it would affect or overwhelm the mind, than
those in which it presents the moving and speaking
image of the departed dead to the senses of the living.
This belongs to poetry, only because it is congenial to
our nature. Poetry is in this respect, but the hand-
maid of true philosophy and morality; it deals with
us as human beings, naturally reverencing those whose
visible connection with this state of existence is severed,
and who may yet exercise we know not what sympathy
with ourselves ; and when it carries us forward, also,
and shows us the long continued result of all the good
we do, in the prosperity of those who follow us, till it
bears us from ourselves, and absorbs us in an intense
interest for what shall happen to the generation after
us, it speaks only in the language of our nature, and
affects us with sentiments which belong to us a»
human beings. Daniel Webster.
THE SIXTEEN PEEFBCTIVa LAWS OF AST. (VoLL
THE MESSIAH.
I.
Rapt into future times, the bard begun :
A Virgin shall conceive, a Virgin bear a Son I
From Jesse's root behold a branch arise,
Whose sacred flower wdth fragrance fills the skies :
The ethereal spirit o'er its leaves shall move,
And on its top descend the mystic dove.
n.
Ye heavens ! from high the dewy nectar potir.
And in soft silence shed the kindly shower!
The sick and weak the healing plant shall aid,
From storms a shelter, and from heat a shade.
All crimes shall cease, and ancient fraud shall fail ;
Returning justice lift aloft her scale ;
Peace o'er the world her olive wand extend.
And white-robed innocence from heaven descend.
in.
Swift fly the years, and rise the expected mom !
Oh spring of light, auspicious Babe, be born I
See nature hastes her earliest wreaths to bring,
With all the incense of the breathing spring:
See lofty Lebanon his head advance.
See nodding forests on the mountains danoe :
Chap. 4.] THB MSSSIAH. 99
IV.
Hark ! a glad voice the lonely desert cheers ;
Prepare the way ! a God, a God appears :
A God, a God ! the vocal hills reply,
The rocks proclaim the approaching Deity.
V.
Lo, earth receives Him from the bending skies I
Sink down, ye mountains, and, ye valleys rise ;
With heads declined, ye cedars, homage pay ;
Be smooth, ye rocks ; ye rapid floods, give way ;
The Saviour comes ! by ancient bards foretold !
Hear him, ye deaf, and all ye blind, behold !
He from thick films shall purge the visual ray.
And on the sightless eyeball pour the day :
VI.
'Tis He the obstructed path of sound shall clear.
And bid new music charm the unfolding ear ;
The dumb shall sing, the lame his crutch forego.
And leap exulting like the bounding roe.
No sigh, no murmur the wide world shall hear,
From every face He wipes off every tear.
In adamantine chains shall death be bound,
And hell's grim tyrant feel the eternal wound.
VII.
As the good shepherd tends his fleecy care,
Seeks freshest pastures and the })ure8t air.
Explores the lost, tlie wandering slicwp direota.
By day o'ersees them, and by night |in»tect8.
100 THE SIXTEEN PERFECTIVE LAWS OF AKT. [Vol. I.
The tender lambs he raises in his arms,
Feeds from his hand, and in his bosom warms ;
Thus shall mankind his guardian care engage,
The promised Father of the future age.
VIII.
'No more shall nation against nation rise,
Nor ardent warriors meet with hateful eyes,
Nor fields with gleaming steel be covered o'er,
The brazen trumpets kindle rage no more ;
But useless lances into scythes shall bend.
And the broad falchion in a ploughshare end,
IX.
Then palaces shall rise; the joyful son
Shall finish what his short-lived sire begun ;
Their vines a shadow to their race shall yield,
And the same hand that sowed, shall reap the field.
The swain, in barren deserts with surprise
See lilies spring, and sudden verdure rise ;
And start amid the thirsty wilds, to hear
New falls of water murmuring in his ear.
X.
On rifted rocks, the dragon's late abodes,
The green reed trembles, and the bulrush nods.
Waste sandy valleys, once perplexed with thorn,
The spiry fir and shapely box adorn ;
To leafless shrub, the flowering palms succeed,
And odorous myrtle to the noisome weed.
Cluip. 4.J THE MESSIAH. 10]
XI.
The lambs with wolves shall graze the verdant mead,
And boys in flowering bands the tiger lead ;
The steer and lion at one crib shall meet,
And harmless serpents lick the pilgrim's feet.
The smilinsc infant in his hand shall take
The crested basilisk and speckled snake,
Pleased, the green lustre of the scales survey.
And with their forky tongue shall innocently play.
XII.
Rise, crowned with light, imperial Salem, rise !
Exalt thy towery head, and lift thine eyes !
See, a long race thy spacious courts adorn ;
See future sons, and daughters yet unborn,
In crowding ranks on every side arise.
Demanding life, impatient for the skies !
XIII.
See barbarous nations at thy gates attend,
Walk in thy light, and in thy temple bend ;
See thy bright altars thronged with i)rostrate kings.
And heaped with products of Sabean springs.
For thee Idume's spicy forests blow,
And seeds of gold in Ophir's mountains glow.
See heaven its sparkling portals wide display,
And break upon thee in a flood of day.
XIV.
No more the rising sun shall gild the morn,
Nor evening Cyntliia fill her silver horn ;
102 THE SIXTEEN PERFECTIVE LAWS OF ART. [YoLI.
But lost, dissolved in thy superior rays,
One tide of glory, one unclouded blaze
O'erflow thy courts ; the Light himself shall shine
Revealed, and God's eternal day be thine !
The seas shall waste, the skies in smoke decay,
Rocks fall to dust, and mountains melt away ;
But fixed his word, his saving power remains ;
Thy realm forever lasts, thine own Messiah reigns !
Alexander Pope.
EACH CAN BEAR HIS OWN.
1. It is a celebrated thought of Socrates that if all
the misfortunes of mankind were cast into a pubhc
stock, in order to be equally distributed among the
whole species, those who now think themselves the
most unhappy would prefer the share they are already
possessed of before that which would fall to them by
such a division. Horace has carried this thought a
great deal further in the motto of my paper, which
implies, that the hardships or misfortunes we lie under
are more easy to us than those of any other person
would be, in case we could change conditions with
him.
2. As I was ruminating upon these two remarks,
and seated in my elbow chair, I insensibly fell asleep ;
when on a sudden me-thought there was a proclama-
Chap. 4.1 EACH CAN BBAB HIS OWN. 103
tion made by Jupiter, that every mortal should bring
in his griefs and calamities, and throw them together
in a heap. There was a large plain appointed for this
purpose. I took my stand in the centre of it, and
saw with a great deal of pleasure the whole human
species marching one after another, and throwing down
their several loads, which immediately grew up into
a prodigious mountain, that seemed to rise above the
clouds.
3. There was a certain lady of a thin airy shape,
who was very active in this solemnity. She carried
a magnify ing-glass in one of her hands, and was
clothed in a loose flowing robe, embroidered with
several figures of fiends and spectres, that discovered
themselves in a thousand chimerical shapes as her
garment hovered in the wind. There was something
wild and distracted in her looks. Her name was
Fancy. She led up every mortal to the appointed
place, after having very ofiBciously assisted him in
making up his pack, and laying it upon his shoulders.
My heart melted within me to see my fellow-creatures
groaning under their respective burdens, and to con-
sider that prodigious bulk of human calamities wliich
lay before me.
4. There were, however, several persons who gave
me great diversion upon this occasion. I olwerved
one bringing in a fardel very carefully concealed under
an old embroidered cloak, which, upon his throwing
into the heap, I discovered to be poverty. Another,
104 THB SIXTEEN" PERFECTIVE LAWS OP ART. [Vol. I.
after a great deal of puffing, threw down his luggage,
which, upon examining, I found to be his wife.
5. There were multitudes of lovers saddled with
very whimsical burdens composed of darts and flames ;
but, what was very odd, though they sighed as if their
hearts would break under these bundles of calamities,
they could not persuade themselves to cast them into
the heap, when they came up to it ; but, after a few
faint efforts, shook their heads, and marched away as
heavy loaden as they came. I saw multitudes of old
women throw down their wrinkles, and several young
ones who stripped themselves of a tawny skin. There
were very great heaps of red noses, large lips, and
rusty teeth. The truth of it is, I was surprised to
see the greatest part of the mountain made up of
bodily deformities.
6. Observing one advancing toward the heap with
a larger cargo than ordinary upon his back, I found
upon his near approach that it was only a natural
hump, which he disposed of with great joy of heart
among this collection of human miseries. There were
likewise distempers of all sorts ; though I could not
but observe, that there were many more imaginary
than real. One little packet I could not but take
notice of, which was a complication of all the diseases
incident to human nature, and was in the hand of a
great many fine people ; this was called the spleen.
But what most of all surprised me, was a remark I
made, that there was not a single vice or folly thrown
Chap. 4.] BACH CAN BEAB HIS OWN. 105
into the whole heap ; at which I was very much
astonished, having concluded with myself that every
one would take this opportunity of getting rid of his
passions, prejudices, and frailties.
7. I took notice in particular of a very profligate
fellow, who I did not question came loaden with his
crimes ; but upon searching into his bundle, I found
that, instead of throwing his guilt from him, he had
only laid down his memory. He was followed by
another worthless rogue, who flung away his modesty
instead of his ignorance.
8. When the whole race of mankind had thus cast
their burdens, the phantom which had been so busy on
this occasion, seeing me an idle Spectator of what had
passed, approached towards me. I grew uneasy at
her presence, when of a sudden she held her magnify-
ing-glass full before my eyes. I no sooner saw my
face in it, but I was startled at the shortness of it,
which now appeared to me in its utmost aggravation.
The immoderate breadth of the features made me
very much out of humor with my own countenance,
upon which I threw it from me like a mask.
9. It happened very luckily that one who stood by
me had just before thrown down his visage, which it
seems was too long for him. It was indeed extended
to a most shameful lengtli ; I believe the very chin
was, modestly speaking, as long as my whole face.
We had both of us an opi)ortunity of mending our-
selves ; and all the contributions being now brought
106 THE SIXTEEN PERFECTIVE LAWS OF ART. [Vol. I.
in, every man was at liberty to exchange his mis-
fortunes for those of another person. But as there
arose many new incidents in the sequel of my vision,
I shall reserve them for the subject of my next paper.
Joseph Addison
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